The Iron Maiden and The Dark Horse
by Awen Sofer
Summary: The Führer's daughter, a woman with a will and a heart made of iron. Roy Mustang, a man with plans and ideals; none of which include her. Their mutual and interfering friend Maes Hughes hopes to help them become friends, allies, and so much more. The story begins in their academy days. Rated M for future chapters. OC. Maes will be kept alive because he deserves a life.
1. Chapter 1

Roy and Maes were sitting on the ground, waiting and chatting, along with the rest of the military academy students. Today would be the day when they would view several displays of weapons play. The first to offer an exhibition would be the sword wielders. After seeing all of the weapons exhibitions, the students would decide which weapon they would further study and develop expert capabilities with in addition to their alchemy training. At this time there were two hundred students in their class. They had been warned by their instructors on the very first day of academy that by the time they graduated, there would only be fifty or less of them left. When a young woman with a thick, rope like braid stepped out of the door onto the field, all eyes became riveted on her. There were very few women in the academy, especially ones who looked like her. She was wearing the same dark navy blue cargo pants they were along with the same heavy black combat boots. Unlike the black tank tops they were wearing, she was wearing a skin-tight, short-sleeved Lycra shirt that clung to her breasts like a second skin. Standing there squinting in the blinding light, her hand held above her eyes in an attempt to shield the sun out of them, it was nearly impossible that all of the young men did not notice her. The dual short swords held to her back in a case tethered to her body by thin leather straps that criss crossed over her chest and between her breasts gave them all pause to approach her. Then a man appeared behind her giving each recruit a quick and harsh judgment with his one emotionless dark blue almost black eye. The other eye was covered by a black eye patch. The six and a half-foot tall man with shiny, coal-black hair, a thick mustache, and muscles galore made them fearful to varying degrees. He had a long sword held in an ornate gold sheath strapped to each of his sides. Each man sat completely still as they gaped at the two people. Führer King Bradley and his daughter, Reyna, had arrived for the swordplay demonstration. Without any fanfare or announcement of any kind, the father and daughter moved to the middle of the barren, grassy field to begin.

Reyna stood facing her father. She closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths. Reaching back to grab the handles wrapped in lengths of braided silver and black cords, she withdrew her short swords. Upon opening her eyes, she saw her father had taken a fighting stance and was ready to attack. The old man had never once given her a break in her entire life. He treated her like the son he had always wanted but had not gotten. Even on the day her mother had died, he had not allowed her to cry. She had never forgiven him for that. She also blamed her father for her mother's death. Her mother had died under 'mysterious circumstances' that had never been fully investigated or explained. Perhaps her mother had died because of the involuntary sin she had committed by not providing him with a son. Genetically speaking, it was actually her father's fault that her mother had not produced a son. But nothing was good enough for him. As a child, she had done anything and everything to please her father, to make him love her. She had punished her body by training in martial arts eight hours a day, received many injuries using weapons, incurred scars physically and emotionally while pushing herself beyond her limits so that once, just once in her life, he would tell her, "Good job, my daughter. I'm proud of you." That confirmation of her existence or her skills never came. Sighing loudly with disappointment, she gripped her swords tighter. Truth be told, she was just as disappointed in him as a father as he was in her as a daughter.

Bradley was losing patience with his daughter. He had taught her to always attack first, to always get the first blow to offset her opponent. His lips pressed together to form a thin line of anger and disapproval across the bottom of his face. She _always _did this. Would she never stop disappointing him? With a bellow of fury, he sliced to the left with his right sword. Before she could jump clear, the extremely sharp tip ripped through her shirt to inflict a four-inch diagonal cut across her abdomen.

"That's one," she announced, pointing her sword at him. She was about to try a new maneuver on him that she had been practicing in secret. Infuriating him would cause him to lose focus and underestimate her. He had underestimated her for years, and she was sick of it.

Bradley gave her a lopsided smirk full of arrogance. He had no idea what she was up to, but he was thrilled to see that she had obviously been covertly planning something in hopes of defeating him. No one could beat him at his own game. No one. Especially not her. Not ever. He offhandedly jabbed his sword at her, expecting her to dodge as if it were a deadly thrust. When she did not move, keeping her swords raised and her eyes locked on his, he muttered under his breath a somewhat bumfuzzled, "Hmmmm...what are doing, my dear?"

Reyna smiled while backing away from him a few steps. She lowered her swords and breathed to clear her head and steady her focus. Without warning, she lunged toward him, her swords raised above her head. The crossed tips of her swords caught the left sword he attempted to bring down on her with all of his strength. If he had succeeded, he would have split her skull. The possibility of her death never bothered him. She guessed he would even welcome it. He had become more violent and refused to hold back the last few years when sparring with her. He claimed it was only to make her better. She knew it was because he wanted her 'accidental' death. She wondered how a man could hate his own daughter so much. After years of tears, heartbreak, and struggling with her own emotions, she had decided to return the sentiment to save herself both mentally and emotionally. She held her swords steady without shaking as he bore down harder to bring his sword down upon her. Kicking out with all of her strength, she knocked the sword out of his right hand that he was swinging toward her. Turning to the side while moving her hands down at the same time, she used his own strength to push his sword to the ground where the tip sank into the soil. Thrusting her elbow backwards, she punched him on the side of his very square jaw. Swinging her fist up, she caught him in the nose with the metal butt of her sword handle that was shaped like a dragon. Twisting her body around, she laid one of her sword blades against his neck and the other poked into his belly button that was outlined by the tight fabric of his shirt. Pressing into his skin with both swords, her face so close to his she could feel his breath on her cheeks, she snarled, "Two."

"What are you counting down to, my love?" he murmured low enough that only they could hear it.

"The moment when I finally best you father," she spat out at him with rage. When his lips lifted in a cruel smile, she added, "Don't call me your love. You never loved me...or my mother."

"Don't say that," he growled back, grabbing the back of her collar to spin her around. To add insult to literal injury, he kicked her in the butt to push her down to the ground.

Releasing the air contained in her lungs with a loud 'oof' sound, she did not hesitate to flip over before he could stomp his heavy boot heel into the base of her spine. She had seen him do that to too many unsuspecting newbies who became paralyzed or were forced to endure chronic pain for the rest of their lives. Dropping one of her swords and grabbing his booted foot with the other, she announced the last number with a scream, "Three!" Using her sword that she always kept sharpened to a deadly fine edge, she sliced through the leather of his boot that protected the back of his ankle. It was like going through soft butter with a heated knife. Pushing her sword back in the other direction, she severed his Achilles tendon. She hurriedly crawled backwards on her hands and feet managing to look just like a giant crab to avoid her father's body that was falling like the Tower of Babel. After picking up her other sword, she got to her feet in a less than elegant manner that made her resemble a newborn fawn trying out her spindly new legs. Standing over her father in triumph, she held both of her swords at the back of his neck. Applying gentle pressure, the tips sunk into the delicate flesh at the base of his skull.

"That's enough!" the Amestrian Military Academy Commander General yelled. He would surely be reprimanded if the Führer received anymore harm. Never before had he seen Reyna get the best of her father. Apparently the man's heavy-handed and merciless approach to training his daughter had worked.

The true nature of the relationship between the Führer and his daughter was kept secret. Visible outbursts displayed for all eyes to see were regarded as the two of them going at each other to put on the best exhibition they could for the cadets or visiting dignitaries. The father put on a the mask of a humble but strong leader, a protective but firm father. Reyna pretended to be happy; putting on a smile and happy-go-lucky attitude for the world to see. Only she knew that she cried herself to sleep every night and her beautiful smile hid the profound pain that had scarred her heart. She did the best she could to lead a normal life despite the identity of her father. He did the best he could to totally exclude her from his life entirely.

Reyna watched in silence, dragging in noisy breaths of air as two of the biggest and most muscular cadets assisted her father with standing. Her eyes narrowed in anger as he willingly accepted the help of the two men as he limped away. He would recover soon. The man had never been sick in his life, and his body had an amazing way of healing itself from injuries. It was almost as if he could regenerate or something as if he were barely human at all. The tension slowly oozed out of her body as her father disappeared inside the building. Her shoulders sagged and her head drooped forward. She was spent not only from the fight with her father that had been a very real skirmish instead of a mock battle for display purposes. Every fight between them had been real. He had made it an actual life or death struggle. There was no do or die; her only option being the Führer's daughter was to simply do. Her mother had received the other option, but Reyna was sure it had not been her choice at all. One day...one day she would find a way to make her father pay not only for her mother's death but for every wrong he had committed against humanity in general.

"Reyna!" a familiar and friendly voice called.

Reyna lifted her head and forced the corners of her lips upward into the well practiced smile that appeared to be sincere. Maes Hughes. Her smile became genuine as she looked at the bespectacled man with the cheerful disposition that sometimes bordered on annoying. However, he had become a ray of sunshine in her dreary days long ago. They had first met a year ago in Alchemy Ethics class. While she began to doze through the teacher's long list of the 'what not to dos' of Alchemy, Maes, who was sitting next to her in the back of the class, got bored as well. She remembered being poked in the arm until she regained full consciousness. Then he began to talk. And he talked and he talked...and he talked some more. It was okay with her. Not only had he been keeping her awake but entertained as well. The lecturer was not quite so amused. The both of them had been banished from the class for the rest of the day. What had meant to be a punishment turned out to be a pleasant afternoon spent chatting and drinking coffee which led to a friendship. Maes was one of the few true friends she possessed. Most people just wanted to be her friend because of her father. Some of the girls her age even tried to become the next Mrs. Führer King Bradley. Status, money, and being something of a celebrity could bridge any age gap apparently. The boys wanted to be her boyfriend to get close to her father so they could be raised in the military ranks faster. Some wanted to be her husband in hopes they would be the next Führer. She had to be really careful with people she allowed to get close to her. Not just to keep them from using her, but also to keep them from knowing how miserable it was to be her or that her father was not really the amiable and fabulous leader he pretended to be.

"Maes!" she yelled back excitedly, giving him a wave. Her indigo colored eyes settled on the man walking beside him. To call him a man would be stretching the age his youthful appearance hinted at a bit. He appeared to be all of fifteen years old but she knew he had to be at least 18 to be accepted into the Military Academy. He possessed a round, baby face as pale as the moon set against a gorgeous back drop of midnight black hair with eyes to match. Although the hair was somewhat messy and disheveled, he was still quite handsome. She rather liked his narrow dark eyes that gave him an exotic and very appealing quality. Gritting her teeth in preparation for the bone crushing hug she knew would be coming, she ignored her sore muscles and aching wound that filled her body with excruciating discomfort when Maes wrapped his strong arms around her and squeezed.

"Are you all right?" he asked with concern, pulling her back to look at her when she whimpered.

"I'm all right," she responded less than truthfully. She was glad she was wearing black so the blood seeping from the wound on her belly would not show. Turning her attention to his companion who was practically hiding behind Maes' tall, lanky frame, she questioned, "Who's your friend?"

"This - " he paused when he looked down next to him and Roy was not there. Seizing Roy by the collar, he pulled the shy man around him so Reyna could get a good look at him, although she already had seen him clearly. "This is my best friend, Roy Mustang."

"Roy," she repeated, putting out her hand that was covered with bruises and dirt. She quickly recoiled it due to the filth to hide it behind her back. It had not even occurred to her how awful she must look.

"Roy, this is Reyna," Maes continued, unfazed by his other friend's current state of disrepair.

Roy silently and curiously studied the woman standing in front of him. Her black hair that had been perfectly smooth earlier poked out from her head in random strands as if she had been zapped with electricity. Her ivory complexion visible on her face and arms was covered with dirt, sweat, blood, and bruises. The clothes that had been crisply ironed were now wrinkled and soiled. She was the same age as himself and Maes, but she seemed older, jaded, and world-weary. He had seen her around the campus quite frequently, surrounded by males and females both. She was the Queen Bee, and they were the drones. He knew she was the Führer's daughter but had no interest in her whatsoever. Although being friends with both people, Maes had never subjected them to having to spend time together as a group of friends. He was thankful for that. He had absolutely no desire to become entangled with females at the moment. His main focus was getting through the Academy and clawing his way up the military ranks. One day he would become Führer to save this country, to repair all of the damage her father had done. Giving her another once over, he would have to say that despite her sorry appearance, she managed to be cute. Maybe he found her somewhat attractive since she had whipped the Führer's ass in a sword fight, beating him at his own game so to speak. Her father had legendary sword skills; now hers would be even more so. Perhaps in the future she could be valuable ally because she seemed to have no loyalty to her father as her parent or his position as Führer.

"Nice to meet you, Roy," she stated using her proper manners and distinct enunciation just like she had been taught at finishing school. She had been tortured for three years at Miss Finch's Finishing School for Proper Young Ladies. Every day, for three long years, the correct way to speak, the correct way to stand, the correct way to laugh, and geez, even the correct way to fart, wait, break wind, had been taught by the spinster crone Miss Finch. The woman had even taught the girls how to get a husband but had never gotten one of her own. Reyna seriously doubted the validity of _Miss_ Finch's teaching skills in that area. Giving Maes one last hug, she trotted off with a wave behind her. "See ya later, Maes!"

Maes and Roy watched her walk away without exchanging a word. Without warning, Maes grabbed Roy, securing his friend's head under his arm to give his sullen companion a painful head noogie. "Roy! I told you that you would love her!"

"But I don't," Roy complained, shoving his hyperactive and irritating friend away. "I don't even like her because I just met her."

"Oh, Roy, it was just a figure of speech," Maes sighed. He thought to himself, _You will love her. You just don't know it yet. _He smiled as if he harbored a fantastic little secret.

Maes ignored the raised eyebrow of diffidence from Roy. He knew his friend believed he was nothing but a silly, romantic fool. He already knew that he was a silly, romantic fool and had no intention of changing that. Was there something wrong with him wanting to see his two best friends happy? Together?


	2. Chapter 2

Reyna stood at the end of the hall feeling uncomfortable and trapped as the girls around her chattered away at each other in a conversation that was supposed to include her. The discussion was about her but none of the comments were directed to her. She supposed these girls thought flattery would get them everywhere because they were praising her hair which was in its usual braid and not extraordinary. They commented on her school uniform next with the black pleated miniskirt and short black jacket over a white button down shirt. She had four others just like it and wore one to school each day. Just like all upper classmen, she wore black instead of the Amestrian blue and gold uniforms. She rolled her eyes when they complimented her on her make up. Who knew lip gloss and mascara could be so trend setting? She forced a smile to her lips, boredly looking past them at the other students milling about in the highly populated hall. If this was the kind of blatant ass kissing and disgusting brown-nosing her father had to deal with from subordinates, she almost felt sorry for him. Almost, but then again, not really.

Reyna was just about to succumb to an early death from insincere, parasitic fawning when a shiny black head bobbed through the crowd. She stood on her tiptoes in an attempt to see the person better, wishing she had worn her high-heeled knee-high boots instead of her flat soled ballet flats. Moving from side to side to avoid the irritating redhead that was determined stay in her vision, she finally caught a glimpse of the young man. Black hair, black eyes, and a pale handsome face. Roy!

"Excuse me, I have to go," Reyna said as politely as possible in her haste to flee. She pushed past the redheaded girl who had been desperate to hold her attention. Dismissing the undignified snorts and scornful sniffs from her fickle fawners, she rushed after Roy who turned to walk up the flight of stairs that led to the second floor. Despite the fact that he has disappeared into the sea of students flowing up and down the stairs, she continued upwards. She had a class to get to on the second floor anyway.

After emerging from the crowd of fellow students who spilled out into the wide hallway, Reyna realized she had completely lost Roy. She muttered, "Darn it." Sighing with disappointment at not being able to at least say hello, she straightened her shoulders and put a smile on her face. Never admit defeat even when the prey has gotten away. Trotting to the end of the hall, she slowed her steps to nonchalantly stroll into the classroom. _Alchemic Symbolism and Transmutation Circles _was scrawled across the blackboard in white chalk. Students were socializing; talking and laughing before the lecture began. All of the classrooms had seats arranged rows of ascending levels like an amphitheater. She hurried up the stairs to find a seat at the very top. To her great surprise and pleasure, she found Roy sitting in the top row.

"Hi," Reyna greeted him cheerily receiving a silent nod of recognition in return. Leaving a seat in between them, she sat down to get prepared for class. Today was the first day of a new semester. She wondered if they would have any other classes together.

"Okay, people, time to begin," the teacher announced so everyone would take a seat and be quiet. His shockingly stern voice worked fantastically in accomplishing this task. The man was a skinny sergeant named Hubert Francis with thinning brown hair and a nose like a bird's beak. He wore small round lensed glasses that enhanced his scholarly appearance.

Reyna stretched out her legs, placing her feet on the back of the chair in front of her. She opened her textbook to the page the teacher indicated. Opening her notebook, she clicked her pen and prepared to take notes. Everything she had achieved, she had worked for it. She had never asked for favors with grades; choosing instead to read, take notes, and study to earn them. Likewise, every skill she had learned she had paid for in sweat and blood.

"Hey, Princess," Roy whispered.

Reyna turned her head slowly to glare at the man who had called to her. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow in a silent question of 'what do you want?'

"Do you have an extra pen?" he asked, leaning toward her.

Without a word, she reached into her purse to retrieve another pen. Handing it over to him, she hissed, "Next time bring your own."

"Yes, your majesty," he murmured with a smirk.

"Queen," she whispered back.

"What?" His dark eyebrows drew together between his eyes in confusion.

"I'm not a princess. My name means queen," she informed him, raising her chin to a haughty angle. "Never forget that."

Roy liked her high spiritedness and sense of humor. It was refreshing to see someone like her poking fun at herself. She was not like he expected her to be at all. He saluted her, rejoining with, "Yes, my Queen."

Reyna returned his sincere smile. His smile made her feel warm and tingly from the inside out. Somehow she knew she had witnessed something wonderful in that rare smile.

...

Later that day, Roy met Maes at the coffee shop in town. In the afternoon the academy students were given the liberty of leaving the campus to do as they pleased. Of course the students had to adhere to the strict rules of conduct for military officers when not on the school grounds. There was a ten o'clock curfew when it was expected they be in their rooms and in bed. Considering the high price to pay for misconduct or being tardy for curfew, only the most stupid cadets who really did not want to be there, dared to commit any violations of the academy regulations. It was just another part of the weeding out process to leave nothing but the best of the best.

Roy spotted Maes in a booth by a window in the back corner of the crowded cafe. Although he was already walking toward the table, Maes stood up to begin waving and yelling for him to come over. God, what a display. Roy could feel the blush climbing up his face as he slid into the seat across from his sometimes embarrassingly energetic and generally high on life friend.

"So, what do you think?" Maes asked with barely contained excitement. He lifted his hand with the forefinger and middle finger up to signal the pretty waitress that walked by. "Two plain coffees please."

The young woman with honey colored hair and friendly moss-green eyes nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Maes had watched her walk away, keeping his eyes on the wooden swinging door long after she was gone.

"Is that why we always come here?" Roy inquired, a lopsided smirk on his face.

"What? No," Maes lied, tugging at his collar while a light pink color tinted his cheeks.

"So what's your crushes name?" He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for his friend to confess everything.

"Gracia," the other man answered, twiddling his thumbs.

"Have you asked her out?"

"No."

"When are you going to ask her out?"

"I-I...uh," he stuttered feeling cornered in the unexpected interrogation. He was never at loss for words so this was highly disconcerting. His eyes caught sight of Reyna when she walked in the door. Great timing! He stood to his feet getting her attention in the same manner he had Roy's.

Unlike Roy, Reyna found the overzealous greeting endearing. She would like to have Maes as her boyfriend if he was not so captivated by a certain cafe waitress already. She knew Gracia as an acquaintance, having seen her other places besides here and spoken to her in a friendly, casual manner. If Maes messed around too much longer on asking the lovely and sweet woman, she would get involved to push things along. She had never known of him to be the least bit shy toward anyone or anything, but Gracia was different. Perhaps, somewhere deep inside, he _knew _she was the one for him and that made him nervous. After receiving one of Maes' patent bear hugs, she looked at Roy sitting in the middle of the cheaply upholstered bench seat by himself. Roy Mustang. She was not sure what to think about him yet. When he did not move over to make room for her, she pushed in beside him, sliding him across the seat with her hip. In the process, her miniskirt had ridden up to her upper thigh. Although she had not noticed, Roy had noticed.

Roy gazed down at the milky white thigh pressed to his leg covered in the Amestrian blue uniform pants. His eyes roved over the muscles that gently twitched and moved while she engaged in a lively conversation with their mutual friend. He had not heard a word exchanged between them. Women's clothing had never been something he took any interest in before, but he was coming to the conclusion that miniskirts were a fantastic piece of clothing. Just as he was beginning to contemplate how that creamy skin of her thigh would feel beneath his fingertips, his lecherous musings were interrupted.

"What do you think Roy?" Reyna questioned him. She pressed her lips together in agitation when he blinked at her with a totally blank look in his eyes. He had not been listening-at all. Observing the light pink coloration that flooded his ivory skin, she realized his mind had been somewhere else entirely. Where had it wandered off to and on who had it been pondering and what the hell had he been thinking?

"About what?" he muttered as if he could not care less. He dumped three packages of sugar in the cup of coffee that had been placed in front of him at some unknown time. Picking up the small metal pitcher of cream, he watched the milky stream pour into his coffee. Smooth, white cream that made the bitter coffee taste so much better. How would her silky white skin taste under his tongue? A salacious grin pulled up one corner of his mouth.

"Roy? What the hell is wrong with you?" Maes asked, stirring his coffee in an almost violent manner. The metal spoon was making such a racket against the sides of the ceramic mug it seemed like the cup would shatter under the force of the hard hits at any second.

Well, damn. This woman was turning him into a raging pervert. Roy always knew women were trouble, and this one had to be double trouble. Glancing at the beautiful bundle of inconvenience sitting next to him, he saw that she had untied her tie leaving it loose around her neck to border the collar of her shirt. More of her enticing skin lay before him in the form of the top of two white mounds that peeked through the deep v of the unbuttoned shirt to give him a teasing glimpse of what lay underneath. His eyes moved back up to hers which were firmly latched onto his face. Her cheeks had grown pink. Probably with a mixture of anger and humiliation from being ogled. Yep. Nothing but trouble and lots of it.

"We were talking about going out Friday night. The four of us," Reyna added, attempting to keep Roy's attention on her face. If only breasts had eyes, eye contact would be no problem for men.

"Four of us?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for a clue as to what she was talking about. He almost wished he had been listening.

"Yes, while you were away," she said in a blatantly mocking tone,"Maes asked Gracia for a date. We're going for a double date on Friday." She paused, one of her eyebrows sliding upward when Roy visibly flinched. "Of course you know it won't be a _real _date between us. We're just going along as...kind of like chaperones...sort of. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know," he responded indifferently. Maes had a way of proving him wrong. He supposed he deserved this after accusing Maes of being shy for once in his life.

~...~

Reyna carefully copied the symbols that Sergeant Francis drew on the chalkboard, hurriedly noting their meaning as the man continued speaking at a fast pace without taking a breath. She assumed he must have been promoted from being a Drill Sergeant as he barked out the explanations in clear, clipped, and quick phrases. When the man finally took a breath, she inhaled deeply herself. She had unknowingly been holding her breath in her desperation to keep up with his accelerated lecture.

"Queen," Roy whispered as their fellow students began asking questions of their teacher.

"Yes?" she responded without looking up from her notes that she was double checking against her book.

"Can you meet me at the coffee shop this afternoon to study?" He was hoping to discuss the details of what might happen on their "date" in addition to some actual studying of the symbols and their meanings.

"Yeah...but I can't," she added quickly, putting the final touches on the symbol for iron. It looked like an arrow with a circle in the middle and a tail on the end. "I have dance class after school today."

"Dance class?"

"Ballet. It helps me maintain balance and grace to maximize my strength. I also take ball room dancing so I can dance without stepping on the toes of men my father is trying to impress when he holds a fancy ball or dinner and dance soiree."

Roy could not miss the tone of sarcasm mixed with disdain in her voice. "Tomorrow then?"

"Sure. We have a test on Friday you know."

"We do?"

"Oh, Roy," she sighed, shaking her head. She had the distinct impression that Roy Mustang was shockingly brilliant but disturbingly lazy. Perhaps she needed a friend who could help slow her down and teach her to smell the roses so to speak. Maybe he could benefit from her Type A personality and being in perpetual motion. Maes was a little high-strung, but he did know how to enjoy life even while in the fast lane. He had taught her to laugh and what it meant to have a real friend. A smile pushed up the corners of her lips. For the first time in her life she felt truly happy.

~...~

Thursday afternoon, Reyna was sitting in the same booth they had occupied earlier in the week. She had ordered her second piece of apple pie with vanilla ice cream to go with her coffee while waiting on Roy. The training session with her father later would help her burn off the calories of the desserts. She dreaded the training session, more so than usual, since he had told her he had something new in store for her. After shoving a fork full of the scrumptious and absolutely sinful dessert into her mouth, her eyes scanned her notes for the fourth time. At this rate she would be tired of studying before her study buddy even arrived.

"Sorry, I'm late," Roy said, receiving a shrug of her shoulders in response.

"Sit down. We need to get busy." Her nostrils filled with the stench of gunpowder. "What have you been doing?"

"Target practice. I chose guns as my preferred weapon," he replied, meeting the steady gaze of her indigo blue eyes. "You have beautiful eyes."

"Oh, god, Roy, don't try to flirt your way out of this," she muttered, shoving her notebook at him since he had forgotten his. She doubted he had even takes notes.

"Seriously...I do like your eyes." He spun the notebook around so he could look over the exquisitely drawn symbols.

"All the girls have them nowadays. It's a popular thing." She began drawing the symbols from memory on the piece of paper she had torn out of her notebook.

"Smart ass," he growled, scanning the lengthy list she had compiled. Pushing the notebook back to her, he challenged, "Try me."

Reyna slid the paper she had been madly scrawling on over to him. She had written the meaning of some alchemic symbols instead of drawing them to change things up on the quiz she had made. Folding her arms over her chest, she prepared to wait to be handed back a piece of paper with no answers or full of incorrect answers. Roy had never cracked his book in class nor had he taken a single note. There was no way he could know the answers. He had used her pen to make ridiculous doodles all over his notebook. She just realized he had not returned her pen either. Oh, well, she had a hundred of them at home.

"I'm done," he announced, sliding the paper back to her. He watched her closely as she checked his answers. Shockingly, her face grew tight and darkened with anger as she continued down the page. Her pen never lifted to make a mark on the impromptu quiz.

"They are all correct." Her suspicions were confirmed. Brilliant but lazy. Dammit. What an infuriating man. She had to study for hours on end, packing information into her head so she could remember it.

"Are you going to finish that?" He pointed at the piece of pie sitting in the middle of a puddle of melted ice cream.

"You can have it. I've lost my appetite," she mumbled, turning her nose up at the plate he seized with vigor.

"Speaking of losing appetites, what are we doing on our _not a date _date Friday night?" He demolished the pie in two big bites.

Was he just trying to piss her off this afternoon? "Probably the usual. Dinner. Possibly a movie. Maybe a walk in the park."

"Which park? Lover's park?" His almond-shaped eyes widened with the possibilities running through his mind. Was she planning on making some kind of move on him? Going beyond friends and straight to friends with benefits? Judging by the penetrating glare he was receiving and the stubborn set of her jaw, he was assuming WAY too much.

"How do you know about that place?" Reyna gritted her teeth to hold back the dirty words that wanted to come flying out of her mouth. It amused her to see him visibly squirm under her stringent scrutiny given in stony silence.

The pink that spread across his cheeks betrayed him. "I've heard things."

"Yeah, right. You're not shy are ya, Roy Boy?"

"What kind of man do you take me for?" he questioned, pretending to be offended by the implication.

"I'm not sure. I'm still trying to decide," she shot back, a grin spreading across her face. She was thoroughly enjoying the verbal sparring match. Beneath the cute, quiet exterior there was an evil mind and a lecherous jerk waiting to be unleashed. For some reason, she found that intriguing.

"I have never been there before. Men just talk...a lot."

"So do women. But that's not the point." Glancing at her watch, she sighed heavily. Time to go. Her father did not like for her to be late. Gathering her books to shove them into her satchel, she said, "You are mystery, Roy Mustang."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he queried, standing up as she rose from her seat.

Rising onto her tiptoes, she whispered in his ear, "I like mysteries." She smiled at him, pleased with the expression of gape mouthed awe on his face. She walked away a few yards before pausing to turn around. With a wave of her fingers, she yelled, "See ya later, Roy Boy."

A self-satisfied smirk twisted his lips making him look arrogant and thoroughly thrilled with himself. The Führer's daughter was not even close to what he had assumed she would be like. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he whistled a merry little tune as he walked out of the cafe. Life had a way of throwing the most astonishing people into his path. First Maes, and now her. Possibly even divine providence would be on his side to assist him with achieving his lofty goals.

...

After arriving home, Reyna had hurriedly changed into her black practice clothes before running into the backyard where her father waited for her. She slid to a stop a few feet in front of the massive, intimidating man who was pacing back and forth impatiently. She immediately stood at attention like the good little soldier he wanted her to be.

"You're late," he admonished her, his rumbling voice reverberating through her body.

"I was studying, sir. I have a test tomorrow," she explained, staring straight ahead and over his shoulder as he glared at her.

"Well, studious as always," he returned with something akin to sarcasm in his voice.

Bastard. He would never be happy with anything she did. Reyna followed his hand that reached into his pocket. She held her breath as he withdrew a five-inch black cylinder covered with leather. With a flick of his wrist, the weapon extended into a three-foot long metal baton. She had never seen anything like that before. So this was the surprise: a new weapon. She was far from overjoyed.

"Here," he said, retrieving another one out of his other pocket. He tossed it at her watching her catch it with ease. Her reflexes were always impeccable. She might even be able to react more quickly than him now. His mind still mulled over how she could have gotten the advantage in the sword match and defeated him. And she had done it with relative ease.

The baton was heavier than she expected given its size. Reyna jerked her wrist to elongate the weapon. The design fascinated her; the overlapping sections of metal that collapsed in on itself to form a small harmless looking cylinder. Once extended, it made a formidable weapon. In his typical manner of fighting, her father lunged without warning. She raised the weapon in a defensive maneuver to block him from bringing the weapon straight down on her head. Although it did not have a sharp edge, she immediately realized the baton could be wielded like a sword.

The two combatants met each other parry for parry, too equally matched to get any where. They both began growing tired and breathless, their biceps burning and shoulders aching as sweat rolled down their faces. Reyna jumped backwards, using a graceful ballet spin to dodge her father's two fast steps to close on her immediately and his aggressive forward thrust. She held up the baton in a defensive position, shielding her face and upper body. Her balance was pushed forward onto her front foot that pointed toward him. If he moved suddenly, she could kick the hell out of him with her back foot to offset him, hopefully before he was able to get in a hit.

"Giving up?" he taunted, giving her a malicious grin. He spun the baton in his hand so fast it resembled a propeller.

"No. I'm strategizing. I'm searching for your weakness at the moment," she responded coolly, keeping her eyes locked on his.

"I have no weaknesses," he returned with a cocky smirk on his face.

Reyna saw his eyes flick downward for just a second before he repositioned the baton in his hand. In that split second, she knew he was going for her knee. If he struck her with the metal weapon with even half of his strength, he would shatter her kneecap which would ruin her leg forever. Rushing forward with her arm extended as if she were going for his gut, she whirled around quickly, escaping his blow. She brought down her baton at the back of his knees to send him to ground in a kneeling position. Completely the rotation, she leaned forward over his shoulder to seize his baton. Since there was no sharp edge, grabbing the weapon would not injure her. Reaching up, she securely enclosed her fingers around the cool metal of the baton. With the same flagrant cruelty her father was prone to display, she mercilessly brought her baton down across his wrist to make him surrender his weapon to her. Not only did he release the baton, he roared in pain as the unmistakable crack of bone sliced through the air setting her teeth on edge. As if it were a suspended reality, she stared in astonishment at his hand that hung at a disturbing angle at the end of his shattered wrist.

"Good. You have a natural talent for violence and handling weaponry," he said calmly, standing to his feet while holding his forearm to support the injured hand. That would be the closest she would ever get to receiving praise from him. He panted from the excruciating ache that radiated up his arm from his damaged wrist.

Reyna knelt down, using a quick downward motion against the ground to retract the weapons. She bowed her head in forced reverence to her father. He was the type of man who did not earn respect but demanded it instead. "May I go now, Father?"

"Yes, now that you've prematurely ended our training session," he growled, walking away from her with a stiff back.

"Will you be going to the hospital, sir?" she inquired, keeping her head down.

"No. I'll be fine. It will heal," he responded without turning around.

Instead of retreating to the house like her father, Reyna decided to take a stroll through the extensive landscaped labyrinth that seemed to go on forever. She needed to think and did not want to be anywhere near her father at this time. Glancing around the entrance of the living maze apprehensively, she took a deep breath and walked in. She had gotten lost in here many times as a child. Her mother would use her voice as a guide, singing to her to help her find her way back out.

"Poor little bunny, you've lost your way. You ran from the wolf and have gone astray," she sang as she walked between the green walls formed by the ten foot tall hedges. Small white flowers were blooming among the dark green glossy leaves of the bushes. The tiny flowers released their powerful scent into the cool evening air. Their sweet and crisp verdant scent that was like green apples and magnolias made her feel drowsy and a bit dizzy. She continued to sing the song her mother had used to lure her to safety. "The wolf is gone. It is safe to play. You have escaped the danger to live another day. Please come home little bunny...I'll help you find your way."

Reyna dropped to her knees before flopping onto her back to stare up at the sky. The blue sky had turned to orange and gold with the advent of sunset. Extending her arms and legs out from her sides, she closed her eyes. Alone in the maze, not caring if she found her way out, she allowed her thoughts to run amok. Her father seemed set on grooming her into a killing machine, a human weapon, but why? Führer King Bradley always had ulterior motives to everything he did. She had not escaped being a pawn in his game of life and politics. Neither had her mother.

"One of these days, Father," she murmured to herself. "Your greatest triumph will be your greatest defeat. I will kill you myself if I have to."

Reyna would swear she heard the metallic squeal and clang of a metal door closing. Had she heard yet another door swinging shut on her heart, locking away her feelings? Maybe so.

"_And wrath has left its scar - that fire of hell _

_Has left its frightful scar upon my soul."_

~Quote by William Bryant Cullen~


	3. Chapter 3

Reyna was sitting under the ancient and magnificent oak tree that dominated the fantastically landscaped square at the back of the main classroom building of the academy. She was sitting cross-legged despite wearing a miniskirt. Her book and notebook were sitting in her lap which pushed down her skirt to maintain her modesty. At this time, she was too busy studying to worry about flashing the whole student body with her white panties. People had left her alone for her last-minute cram session before class. The expression on her face would be the reason for their reluctance to approach her. Her eyebrows were knitted together over eyes that appeared angry due to concentration. A severe frown pulled down her lips and her forehead was ridged with deep furrows that belonged to those in deep thought.

Roy pushed off the side of the building he had been leaning against while watching her as Maes rattled on about their double date tonight. He wondered what it was like to live in Maes' reality and be so totally oblivious to when people aren't listening. How could that man be so in love with someone he had not even been a date with yet? He could still hear Maes talking until he finally strolled out of earshot. Kneeling down on one knee beside the fixated and undistracted Reyna, he touched her shoulder. He winced when she jumped and screamed from being startled.

"Dammit, Roy," she panted, pressing her hand to heart as if that would slow it down.

"I didn't mean to scare you. You look...awful," he commented, feeling the heat from her furious glare. He did not think the frown on her face was capable of becoming deeper but it did, cutting deep lines in her face on each side of her nose down to her chin. He reached out to her, stroking his fingertip across the crevices made by her frown. "Don't do that. You're too beautiful to do that."

Reyna closed her eyes, sighing noisily as if she were trying to alleviate her stress all at once. "I'm just worried," she murmured, opening her eyes when she felt his fingers stroking the creases across her forehead.

"Why? You'll do fine on the test," he assured her, continuing the delicate massaging until her facial muscles released. "Do you stress like this before every test?"

"I do," she answered, resisting the urge to moan in gratitude. Her face had been so drawn with tension that the muscles were sore. The pounding stress headache she had given herself began to subside as well.

"It's okay if you're not perfect." He sat down beside her, taking her hand between his.

"No. No, it's not. I _have _to be perfect." She gave him an unsteady smile. Nothing less than perfection was good enough for her father. Sometimes that was not enough. Her eyes quickly broke contact with his to watch what he was doing with her hand. She studied his movements as he turned her hand over with the palm up. Her hand looked so small laying on top of his open palm.

"Close your eyes," Roy requested. Receiving a questioning gaze and a raised eyebrow of uncertainty, he grunted and gruffly ordered, "Just do it!"

Reyna closed her eyes, pushing her palm closer to him. "Going to read my future?"

"In a way...I'm going to predict that you will not only pass this test but make a high grade," he responded. "I'm going to draw a symbol in your palm with my finger, then I want you to tell me what it is."

"Okay," she agreed, feeling his finger gliding over her palm. If she were not thinking intently, concentrating on the shape he made as he dragged his forefinger across her skin, this would probably be very erotic and exciting. She chewed her lower lip as she formed a picture of the symbol in her mind - a circle with an arrow. "Iron."

"Good." He made the next one, waiting patiently for her answer.

"Creation." She correctly identified the diagonal arrow with a small crossbar near the bottom.

"You're going to do great," he complimented her. He smiled when a pleased grin pushed her lips upward. The pleasant smile looked so much better on her pretty face.

Maes was still leaning against the wall, watching the two of them while he smoked a cigarette. Dropping the butt of his cigarette on the ground, he congratulated himself on a job well done. A self-congratulatory grin tugged at his lips as he crushed the cigarette with the heel of his boot. He had known they were meant for each other. Hopefully they would figure it out for themselves soon.

~...~

Reyna raked her fingers through her wavy hair, fluffing it out over her shoulders. Turning around to view her loose-fitting sheath dress that cinched around her hips with a thick ribbon, she checked from every angle to make sure things were where they should be. The light pinkish beige fabric that stopped at her mid-thigh was covered with lace of the same color that went all the way down to her knees which made the dress appear longer. Hearing the doorbell, she stepped into her shoes and bolted from her room. Recklessly running down the stairs to reach the door before her father did, she jumped off the bottom step to lunge forward. Unfortunately her father stepped in front of her causing her to crash into him full force in the back which flung the both of them against the door making a dull thud. At least he took the hardest part of the hit when he was flattened to the solid mahogany door by his daughter.

"Reyna!" he yelled, turning to glower at her disapprovingly.

"I was trying to get to it so you would not be disturbed from relaxing in your study," she said, backing away a few steps to allow him to move back so he could open the door.

"It's only proper for a father to answer the door to see with whom his daughter is about to go on a date," he reminded her. For some reason when he had heard the doorbell he had experienced a sudden gush of protective instinct that only father's held for their daughters. Looking at her in this moment, his mind was filled with memories of his wife. She looked like her mother. He had wanted to protect his beloved wife from certain evils that lurked in the shadows of his past and present, but he could not. The darkness lay close, right under the paved streets of Central. With sadness creeping into the edges of his consciousness like a haunting specter, he knew he would not be able to protect his daughter either. She had been correct in determining he had a weakness. First it was her mother. Now it was her. His eyes briefly held hers, and he could see the burning anger and fierce contempt she held for him. It flowed from every cell of her being. Her eyes - her eyes that were so much like his - were the clearest window to her deepest, truest intentions because they laid bare every emotion she might try to hide. He had wanted her to abhor him so he could use that loathing to drive her away, to push her to being a strong woman, a great soldier, perhaps even a ruthless killer. He wanted her to be anything she needed to be to defend herself against the savage and foul beings that would be coming for her. The same being who made him and the ones who that wicked creator deemed as his siblings because he had made them as well. Born from death itself, humanoid embodiments of the greatest sins known to man - the homunculi.

"Father?" she called, growing uncomfortable under her father's serious scrutiny. Having only one eye did not detract from the severity of his stare. As a matter of fact, the eyepatch hiding his other eye seemed to make him more menacing and terrifying. She had no idea if a dead eye or a huge gaping hole lay beneath that round piece of leather strapped across his face. The mere thought of what secret it might cover was so repulsive to her that she shuddered.

"What?" he muttered, irritated with himself. He had never been one to give into his emotions unless it was unbridled fury. The somewhat human manifestation of wrath - anger beyond reason that gave him a taste for blood and war, the harbinger of death, chaos, and devastation; should not be capable of feeling tender emotions. He glared at his one weakness.

"Are you going to open the door?" she asked, attempting but failing to keep the sass out of her voice.

"Hmph," he grunted, turning the knob before snatching open the door.

Maes stood there with his eyes big and round behind the square lenses of his glasses. His fist was raised in the air because he had been prepared to knock again. Apparently, they had thought it best that Maes come to the door to get her. Maybe his benign appearance or natural tendency to be goofy would put her father at ease more so than the dark, brooding, and sex appeal oozing Roy Mustang.

"Good evening, sir!" Maes exclaimed unnecessarily, saluting the Führer. "I've come to take your daughter on a date, sir!"

"Oh, god," Reyna mumbled, covering her eyes with her hand. If only this were a nightmare she could wake up from.

"Are you being serious right now, boy?" the Führer demanded, somewhat amused as the young man began to visibly sweat.

"Y-yes, s-sir," he stammered, feeling the sweat rolling down his back. He had not imagined this would be so difficult especially since he had expected Reyna to be behind the door. Her father could be friendly, but he could also be intimidating and downright frightening. Where his daughter was concerned, the Führer had no affability. Shooting her a pleading glance, he silently begged her for a little help in extricating himself from this disconcerting situation.

"Father, he's a classmate. It's a double date actually so you have nothing to worry about. I promise I won't do anything to embarrass you," Reyna said, laying her hand against her father's bulging bicep. She felt him relax beneath her touch which would be a first for her. It seemed like all she ever brought him was irritation and trouble. Confusion clouded her brain as her eyes moved up to his eye which was staring at a spot above her head.

"Fine. Be home before midnight," he told her firmly, stepping aside so she could walk out of the door.

Maes put his arm out for her to escort her down the front steps of the Führer's mansion to his car that was parked on the street out front and still running. Roy was standing by the open car door waiting for her.

"Planning on a quick get away?" she teased, nudging Maes with her elbow.

"Do you blame me?" he asked, unhooking his arm from hers.

"No. Not at all," she laughed. If only she could find a permanent get away from her father. Somehow she was sure if she did try to leave he would find her. Her father made no sense to her at all. He acted as if he hated every fiber of her being yet poured so much of his time and energy into training her. Tonight he even expressed a bit of fatherly reluctance to allow her to go on the date. She smiled when Roy took her hand to assist her into the backseat. Seeing his handsome face made all thoughts of her father cease instantly.

"Gracia is meeting us at the restaurant so we need to hurry or we'll be late," Maes announced, stomping the gas pedal for emphasis.

Reyna and Roy were instantly plastered against the back of the seat as the tires squealed before catching traction to send them roaring off into the night. They looked at each other and laughed. She gave him a leisurely perusal in the flashing of the street lights as they whizzed past them. Maes was breaking several traffic laws, but none of them cared. Roy was wearing a black suit with a black tie. It was the middle of summer, not to mention that he seemed a bit overdressed for a simple dinner and a walk in the park. His usually abundantly messy hair had been combed into submission to give him a polished elegance.

"My, you clean up nicely, Roy," she complimented, peeling her back off the leather seat now that the g-forces had relented.

"You too. But then again, you're always beautiful," he returned, a lopsided grin on his face. "Even when your hair is a mess and you are hot and sweaty and dressed like a man."

"Ugh," she groaned, turning her back to him to stare out of the window at nothing but darkness. He had been referring to her appearance the first time they had met. It still embarrassed her that she had been such a human train wreck. A woman always hates to be at her worst when meeting anyone. Being the Führer's daughter, she was held to an even higher standard. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Sometimes disappointing people in the expectations they had for her could be entertaining. It reminded them that she a real person, someone besides just the Führer's daughter. Glancing back at the man sitting beside her, she could think of a few ways to tarnish her reputation and humiliate her father. Quickly turning back to look aimlessly gaze out of the window, she realized the very thought of such an indecent act caused her face to burn with shame. Damn. She was a prude after all. And a virgin. Being a virgin made her a prude. She could deal with that reasoning; it made sense to her anyway. Sighing heavily, she allowed her head to fall forward until her forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window.

"We're here!" Maes announced pointlessly as the car rolled to a stop.

"Is that why we've suddenly stopped?" Roy inquired like a true smart ass.

"Oh, you two are just absolutely perfect for each other," he grumbled, shoving open his door.

"What?" they asked in unison, not sure they had heard him correctly.

"Nothing. Come on, dear," Maes said, opening Reyna's door to hold out his hand for her.

"I could have helped her. She's my date after all," Roy snapped indignantly.

"She is?" his friend questioned him, hopefulness causing his voice to rise an octave.

"I am?" Reyna calmly stepped out onto the sidewalk, ignoring the sound of her heart beating in her ears.

"Well...my fake date of course," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck while his cheeks flourished with color.

"Of course," the other two repeated in unison.

Roy took Reyna's hand, putting her arm through his before pressing her palm to his forearm. Patting her hand apologetically, he led her into the restaurant. "No hard feelings among friends?"

"Never. We're chaperones. I remember that." Reyna convinced herself she had been caught up in nothing more than a hormonally fueled bout of pure lust. What woman wouldn't be flustered in the company of such an attractive man? Tightening her arm around his, she pulled her body closer to his side as they entered the restaurant.

Gracia was sitting in the front waiting area for them. She jumped to her feet, blushing profusely as Maes greeted her by kissing the back of her hand like an old-fashioned gentleman. After the astonishingly wonderful hello from the man she had been hoping would ask her out for months, she was introduced to the pair standing behind him. She knew them both on a casual basis from the cafe. She had even spoken to Reyna several times in other places. The woman was unexpectedly down to earth and quite pleasant despite being Führer Bradley's daughter.

"Oh, you two make such a lovely couple," she complimented, unsure as to what the disconcerted exchange of looks between the two meant.

"But we're not - OW!" Roy howled after he received a painful stab in the ribs from his fellow chaperone's sharp fingernail.

"Thank you," Reyna rejoined to save the woman from being embarrassed. Gracia did not know that their relationship was strictly 'friend zoned' and nothing more.

"What'd you do that for?" he hissed into her ear as they were being led to the table.

"Sometimes it's best just to let people think what they want to think. Just smile, say thank you, then shut up," she whispered through her teeth and a much practiced smile.

"Something you've had extensive training on?" He pulled her chair out for her to sit when they reached their table.

"Among other things." She wanted to slap the arrogant grin off of his face. She managed to keep her smile in place and retain her composure. It amazed her how Roy could be a total jerk one second then a proper gentleman the next. However, if he said one more word to tick her off, she would kill him with her bare hands and make it look like an accident in spite of having hundreds of witnesses. She was good - and scary - that way thanks to dear old dad.

"Would care for an aperitif?" their waiter inquired in a really atrocious French accent. He was dressed in a white shirt, black bow tie, and black pants with a crisp white apron that reached his ankles. The thin, wispy moustache and overly oiled, slicked down hair combined with his uniform made him a laughable stereotype.

"How about Champignons, Brie en Croute, and Cocktail de Crevettes Royal?" Reyna ordered with a better French accent than the waiter. The man stood wide eyed and taken aback momentarily before madly scratching the order down on the small note pad in his hand. Before he could scurry away with his tail tucked between his legs after being called out as a fake, she added,"Oh, and your best Beaujolais, please."

"Wow...that was impressive. I didn't know you spoke French," Maes said, smiling at her as if he were a proud parent instead of her friend.

"There's a lot of things you still don't know about me, Maes," she joked, feeling the intense glare of jealousy coming from the man sitting beside her. To be a _friend _on a _fake date_, he sure was being possessive. She sighed as the atmosphere at the table grew thick with awkwardness in the glowering silence. To offset the suffocating air, she waved her hand as if shooing away a fly and remarked, "Don't be too impressed. All I ordered was wild mushrooms sautéed in garlic butter, cheese baked in puff pastry, and shrimp cocktails."

A smattering of laughter filled the air. Despite the chuckles being forced, it did the trick to dispel the discomfort that had settled on each person. Maes turned to Gracia to focus his full attention on her. Roy scooted his chair closer to Reyna so he could almost whisper in her ear.

"So, lady of mystery," he murmured in her ear. "Tell me more about yourself."

Reyna concentrated on keeping her breaths deep and evenly measured as his breath finished caressing her neck once his words stopped. She quickly lifted her glass to take a sip after the waiter filled it with the dark purple liquid. Her fingers brushed Roy's when she set her glass on the table. A jolt of excitement ran through her body from the delicate yet ordinary touch. But there was nothing ordinary about this man. She watched in awe as he gracefully picked up the wine glass by the stem, swirled the wine around, then brought it to his nose to sniff heartily.

"A wine snob?" she inquired, her eyebrow lifting questioningly.

"You have your secrets. I have mine." He sipped the wine before setting his glass back down next to hers. Turning and coming almost nose to nose with her, he said, "I want to know one of your secrets."

"I snore like an out of control freight train running down the tracks," she replied bluntly. She suppressed the giggle that bubbled its way up her throat when his narrow eyes widened momentarily before he squinted at her with displeasure.

"That's not a real secret. All women snore," he muttered testily, turning away from her to take another sip of wine.

"A secret is a secret. You didn't say it had to be a good one. Okay. You tell me something, Roy Mustang," she challenged, leaning against his arm until his bicep was wedged firmly between her breasts. "How do you know all women snore?"

"A real man never kisses and tells." A smug grin tilted his lips. To his surprise, she chewed her bottom lip and looked as if she were contemplating something. "What do you do when you're not kicking ass and taking names?"

"Now, now, now," Reyna chided him, wagging her finger in his face. "You need to give a real answer to my question before I answer another one of yours."

"Ask another one."

"Where do you live?"

"With my sister Chris."

_I wonder what happened to his parents, _she mused to herself, barely catching his next statement.

"She owns the gentleman's club in Central," he added nonchalantly, finishing off his glass of wine. He refilled his glass and hers from the bottle that had been left at the table.

"The what?" The women in Central called it a Den of Sin or a House of Ill Repute. The men, especially the soldiers, called it a bar with very friendly hostesses who knew how to give a great massage. A small smile pulled at her lips when she thought about how dreamily the men spoke of it when they thought no one was listening. If they only knew what she knew, there would be some faces in a permanently blushing state.

"Don't judge me, Princess, I mean, Queen," he corrected himself, irritation evident in his voice. He assumed her silence meant she was suddenly ashamed to be seen with him because of the type of business his sister owned. "My sister gave up many things, made lots of sacrifices to bring us here and to get me into the academy."

"But Roy, I - " She sat stunned, gaping at him in shock that he would make such an accusation. She had not rushed to any kind of judgment. Besides, Chris Mustang was a very successful business woman and had nothing to be ashamed of as far as she was concerned. So why would Roy need to feel embarrassed?

"We all can't be born into prominence and money like you," he snapped rudely, pushing her away from him.

"Roy, that's enough," Maes warned him in a low voice. He saw the tear slip from the corner of Reyna's eye which made him grow even angrier. "Roy, you don't know what you're talking about. Calm down. She was not judging you at all. You should really get to know her first before assuming such things."

Reyna gave Maes a grateful but sad smile. He knew a lot of her hidden pain and a few of her darkest secrets. She had allowed him to know enough to be aware of her true situation but not enough to pity her. Pity was the one thing she could not bear. Patience, understanding, and even sympathy she could accept. But NEVER did she want someone to feel sorry for her.

"I already know _her kind_," Roy spat out hatefully, rising from his seat.

"Her kind?" Maes repeated, skirting around the edge of the table with amazing speed and agility. He seized Roy by the collar, mussing the man's crisply ironed shirt as he lifted him from the floor. "You know, nothing about _her kind_. I suggest you get a hold of yourself, sit down, and shut up."

"I'm sorry," Reyna whispered to Gracia who was sitting across the table from her. She doubted the woman had even heard her as Gracia's green eyes beheld the sight of the sweet and silly man who had asked her out threaten to pummel one friend to redeem the honor of his other friend. A genuine smile spread across her face when she realized in that moment, Gracia had fallen as deep in love with Maes as he had with her. Those two made her want to believe in love at first sight. Long ago, she had deemed such the ridiculous, romantic notion of 'falling in love' as nonsense that only existed in the fairy tales her mother read to her at night. At least it existed for some beyond bedtime stories.

The next thing Reyna became aware of was Roy sitting beside her, smoothing down his hair and straightening his suit in a huff. He apologized profusely to Gracia before his dark eyes settled on her. She did not know what to expect after the earlier unforeseen outburst so she stayed quiet while keeping her expression neutral and emotionless. Her father had taught her many useful things. Becoming an emotional brick wall had its uses for certain circumstances. This was one of those circumstances.

"I'm sorry. I'm very protective of my sister...and my past," he mumbled, lowering his eyes to stare at the white linen tablecloth. He had not been able to maintain eye contact because he knew he had been wrong. He had jumped to conclusions and assumed too much. His lack of self-control had caused him to act like a total ass, hurt her feelings, and nearly ruin Maes' date. Holding his temper did not come easy to him with his short fuse and low threshold for haughty assholes. Completely unaware of his own attitude of arrogance, he was clueless that he was indeed a hypocrite.

"Oh, the food is here. Time to eat!" Reyna exclaimed happily with the skills of an accomplished actress.

"Reyna, I -" Roy abruptly halted his words when she turned her head to look at him.

With a smile on her lips and fury in her eyes, she said in a disturbingly calm voice, "Just eat, Roy. We'll talk later. Do not do another thing to mess up their date."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied like a good soldier. He was sure a different reply would involve physical violence at this point because she was so put out with him. That would definitely ruin the date for Maes and Gracia.

The rest of dinner involved great food including a fantastic chocolate dessert. The conversation revolved around general topics like the weather and recent happenings in Central along with benign 'getting to know you questions' such as "what's your favorite color?." Maes and Gracia did most of the talking which allowed Roy and Reyna to stew in a dramatic silence while ignoring each other. After leaving the restaurant, Maes drove to the biggest and most beautiful park in Central, the one located across from the academy. A winding walking path weaved its way between trees and rocks with lots of gas lamps to light it. The center of the park was dominated by a massive three-tiered fountain with a circular area surrounding it that was inlaid with shiny indigo blue tiles. A lake filled with koi encompassed the park except for the entrance. During the day, many ducks, geese, and swans glided on the lake or waddled through the soft grass. They were all nestled down and sleeping now. The park was tranquil and mostly deserted at this time of night. Only the sound of crickets disturbed the perfect peace. A few couples strolled through the park on the stone paved paths. The people walked holding hands, their arms linked, or with the man's arm wound protectively around his companion's shoulders. Except for one couple. Reyna walked on one side of the wide path, her arms folded over her chest. Roy walked on the other side with his hands shoved in his pockets. Neither one of them spoke a word. Maes and Gracia had strolled away, arm in arm, in the opposite direction.

Reyna ceased walking to look at the half-moon. Half light and half dark, the two sides of the moon coexisted making one complete object until the lighter half slowly dominated the other. She closed her eyes, inhaling the cool breeze that blew across her face. The scent of night-blooming jasmine, an overpowering sweet and flowery yet earthy smell, filled her nostrils. The breeze blew over her again, and she shivered. Her body stiffened when she detected the presence of Roy behind her. She relaxed when she felt the warmth of his jacket cover her shoulders and surround her chilled body. Her eyes remained fixed on the moon when he moved to stand beside her.

"Thank you," she said, pulling the lapels close together. Her eyes slid to the corners to get a glimpse of him out of her peripheral vision. He seemed to shiver slightly. "Are you cold now?"

"No. I'm fine," he responded, taking a sideways step to move closer to her. "Reyna, I'm sorry."

"About what?" She knew he was referring to the 'misunderstanding' at dinner. She preferred to just forget the whole matter and continue on with their lives as if nothing had happened.

"I overreacted. I'm sorry," he repeated, putting his arm around her waist.

"Well, I could be accused of grossly under-reacting quite a bit so I suppose we're even," she murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Do you believe in fate?" he ventured, pulling her more firmly to his side.

"No," she answered bluntly, a hard edge to her voice. "I don't believe in a lot of things. I don't believe in destiny. I don't believe our lives are completely out of our control. We may not be able to guide our path for a certain time, but not our whole lives. We can shape our own future or change what lies before us. I don't believe that people are inherently good. I don't believe in monsters we can't see because the humans we do see are so much more horrifying. And I don't believe in falling in love."

"Hmmmm," he hummed thoughtfully, hugging her briefly in a sideways embrace. "Do you believe in balance, yin and yang, opposite forces that equalize each other...or like with some alchemical formulas that substances neutralize others that would otherwise be lethal?"

"Well, of course, why?" she questioned him, turning her head and looking up at him since he was taller than her. She inhaled sharply when he pressed the tip of his forefinger under her chin to keep her eyes centered on his.

"I've been thinking - " He began only to be interrupted.

"Now there's a dangerous concept," she giggled, thrilled to see a hint of a smile on his lips.

Roy cleared his throat, giving her a stern look. "Like I said, I've been thinking since our little situation occurred earlier. I need someone like you in my life."

"Oh?" Reyna searched his eyes attempting to decipher the true meaning of his words. Doubting that it was anything of the sappy, romantic sort, she waited for him to continue.

"I think you need me too." Shockingly, Roy managed to make this statement without a hint of smug conceit.

She kept her mouth closed, carefully considering his words. "Because we seem to equalize each other? Bringing a harmony and stability emotionally?"

"That was a very poetic way to put it. And yes." Holding her gaze, he could read her genuine emotions. Although she had been trained to hide her feelings, sometimes she failed miserably at doing so. This was one of those times. He could see that she wanted to believe him - that she _needed _to believe him. He knew he was taking a huge chance, asking her to trust him implicitly so soon.

"Are we making a business deal or embarking upon a relationship here?" she inquired, unsure of his intentions.

"It is definitely not a business deal. As far as the relationship goes, I think it best that we stick with being friends."

"I agree."

To be anything more, especially this early in the relationship, would be ridiculous and just plain irresponsible. Possibly even dangerous for the both of them. Lapsing into a comfortable silence for the first time during the course of the evening, they gazed at the moon and pondered what choices they would make to mold their futures. Whether it be together or separate, a myriad of prospects and countless probabilities lay before them.


	4. Chapter 4

Reyna opened her eyes to find herself in the middle of a lush green forest. The trees surrounding her swayed in the gentle breeze as if they were dancing around her. The grass beneath her feet tickled her toes. Birds tweeted, squirrels chattered, and the forest was alive not only with the sounds of the animals but everything around her seemed to vibrate with energy as if she could feel their life force. Then it all changed. Lightning split the blue sunny sky as if it had torn a hole in the universe to obliterate her tranquil fantasy. The sky instantly darkened to a moonless black night. The wind gusted and howled through the barren branches of the trees. No cheery melodies of song birds filled her ears. There was nothing but blackness and desolation. The life had gone, immediately filling her with despair and fear.

"Come this way," a lilting, comforting female voice called to her. A figure covered with a crimson cloak the color of blood appeared between two of the sinister trees whose branches seemed to reach for her. A bright white began to pulse from her body as if she were a beacon of goodness and safety. The trees shrank back from her, their branches twisting helplessly in the wind. The woman's face was shielded from view by the hood of the cloak.

Reyna stared at the hand that extended toward her beckoning her to follow. Without another word, the woman turned to walk away from her. Unsure if she should follow, she hesitated while trying to reason out her options. When the light began to fade in the darkness, making her feel as if she were losing her last hope, she ran after the woman. The trees lashed out at her, cutting her with their sharp leafless branches that felt like small knives scraping across her skin.

"Wait," she called, her voice barely above a whisper. Her steps slowed as if her feet were sticking to the ground. Glancing down, she saw the grass had turned to a disgusting black sludge that held her feet in place. The goo covered the top of her feet making her realize she was sinking into it. "Wait!" she screamed to the woman whose light was flashing through the night in random rays as she passed through the trees. "Please!" she bellowed as loudly as possible. After the light dimmed and disappeared completely, she dropped to her knees, defeated and exhausted. Her hands were buried in the mess now, and she was still sinking. It did not matter that she was covered in the slimy, sticky substance that had glued her to the ground. "Please, help me. Someone...anyone," she whispered since she knew no one would be coming.

Every noise, every movement, _everything_ around her halted. An eery silence filled the still air causing Reyna to remain motionless. She was waiting for what would happen next. Deep in her a belly a sense of dread grew. She could feel something coming. It was something that wanted to hurt her. A hand broke through the reflective, oily surface of the substance holding her. The hand seized her forearm, the grip incredibly strong, the fingers pressing into her flesh and bruising muscles under her skin. Too startled to scream and completely immobile, she helplessly watched as another hand appeared on the other side, grabbing her other arm. More hands began to shoot out of the tar-like goo, gripping any available part of her body. She screamed. She screamed until her throat was raw and no sound would come out any longer. The hands held her captive, refusing to let go no matter how hard she struggled. When she thought she had no energy or voice left, something snatched her by the hair to pull her over onto her back. Then the moaning began; a terrible, gut wrenching sound made even more sickening by the occasional scream of terror that broke through the steady humming of complete and utter suffering.

"Please! Let me go! Leave me alone!" she hollered with all of her might. The hands tightened their grip and the anguished groaning grew louder making her brain throb from the agony in their cries.

"We can't let you go!" a masculine voice cried out.

"We will never leave you alone!" a child's voice yelled at her.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" she screamed, jerking her arms and legs in a fruitless attempt to free herself. A light tickling sensation like a feather gliding along the inside of her belly began just as the cacophony of torment deafening her ceased. The ticklish feeling turned into a tearing sensation as if her insides were being clawed and torn. Two of the greasy black hands reached up to tear open her nightgown. Looking down at her abdomen, she could see the imprint of a face, the mouth open in a silent scream while the fingers pushed against her skin from the inside.

"Because we're trapped inside of you!" a female voice hissed.

"No, no, no, NOOOO!" she wailed, closing her eyes tightly. Her body was wracked with pain as more faces and hands appeared against her flesh attempting to claw their way out of her body.

"No," Reyna gasped aloud, finally awakening herself from the nightmare. She sat up in her bed, holding her head in her hands. Sweat rolled down her body soaking her nightgown. The droplets cooled in the night air as they skidded over her skin causing her to shiver. What a horrible nightmare. She had not had one of these nightmares in years. The voices. She had heard some of those voices before. Were they about to start haunting her again? Leaning over, she opened the drawer to her nightstand to find the bottle of pills Dr. Marcoh had prescribed for her. She had not taken them in six months because she had finally stopped hearing the voices. She did not want them to come back. Her fingers trembled uncontrollably as she fumbled with the cap to pop it off of the bottle. Somehow managing to shake two pills into her open palm, she dry swallowed them before rushing to the bathroom for a sip of water to completely wash them down. Glimpsing at herself in the mirror, her face twisted into a scowl of disgust as she looked at her face. A grayish pallor tinted her skin and sweat had plastered her hair to her cheeks and neck. Forcing a hand through her sweat dampened, tangled hair, she turned the tap back on to splash water on her face.

Reyna raised her head, staring at her eyes that appeared to be a dull black color that coincided nicely with the dark circles under them and her red rimmed eyelids. She punched the mirror, cracking the glass into a million shards that broke into a spider web pattern but remained intact on the wall. She fell back against the wall, sliding to the floor. The floor was positively frigid against her behind and bare legs. Her hand had flopped over limply beside her, spattering her blood on the snowy gleaming tiles. She did not care that she was bleeding. It would stop soon leaving only small scratches behind. By tomorrow afternoon, she would be completely healed. At least her body had the same amazing prowess for healing itself like her father's, although she took a bit longer. Allowing her chin to drop to her chest, she cried. Her tears flowed like a waterfall, cutting crooked paths on her cheeks before dribbling down her neck before soaking into the ruffled neck of her white cotton nightgown. She allowed herself to cry, to wade through the emotional pain before she drowned, until her body stopped producing tears and exhaustion prevented her from shuddering with each sob. Reaching above her, she pulled down the towel that hung from the hook by the shower stall. After wrapping it around her bleeding hand, she used it as a pillow. Curling up into the fetal position with her towel pillow under her head, she passed out more so than falling asleep. There would be no more dreams tonight; bad, good, or otherwise.

Reyna awoke the next morning, stiff and miserable from her choice of unusual resting place. She slowly worked out the kinks in her sore muscles with a mixture of stretching and massaging. Once she could finally move without aching, she showered and dressed in a plain black miniskirt with a button down pink blouse to go with it. She shoved her ballet slippers along with a pink leotard and short flowing black skirt into her duffel bag. Today would be a good day to get in extra dancing practice to unwind her body and soothe her nerves. Holding her flat pink shoes in her hand, she trotted down the stairs in hopes that she could get past her father without him hearing her. He always worked in his study on Saturday mornings. The problem was that his study door was ten feet away from the front door, and he always left his door cracked open a bit. Tiptoeing past his door, a sense of triumph ballooned within her when she placed her hand on the shiny gold knob of the front door and twisted it.

"Where are you going?" her father questioned her from his study.

"Dammit," she muttered, hanging her head. So close. Her massive disappointment following so closely on the heels of her short-lived victory made her feel like a deflated balloon. Throwing her shoes on the floor made an echoing 'clack' sound in the huge entryway. She angrily shoved her feet into them. "I'm going to Madame Girard's Dance Academy to practice."

"Don't be late for dinner," he warned her without asking any further questions. "I have a surprise for you."

"Yes, father," she responded numbly before exiting the house. A surprise? Oh, joy. She loved his surprises. What weapon or fighting maneuver would she be given this time? Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she began walking to the dance academy. Half way there, she was too busy mulling over what surprise her father could possibly have in store for her to notice Roy walking toward her on the sidewalk on the other side of the street.

Roy was distracted by his own thoughts but not distracted enough that he did not see her. He had actually been on his way to her house to apologize yet again for his behavior on their date. He considered calling out to her but changed his mind when he saw her face. She was wearing the same expression of deep concentration she had been when studying for the test. She could be a scary kind of beautiful. Instead of yelling her name, he turned to proceed in the same direction as her. He stayed on his side of the street and behind her so she would not see him. His steps halted when he saw her abruptly turn and disappear down the alley between the dance school and the music shop. After waiting a minute or so, he crossed the street to go down the alley behind her. Rounding the corner, he dropped down to his knees behind the row of short bushes that surrounded the building when he saw her at one of the back windows. She had wedged a knife between the top and bottom panes and was purposefully moving the blade back and forth. The latch made a loud popping sound when she flipped it to be able to open the window. He watched with fascination as she put the knife back in her bag then proceeded to open the window to throw the duffel bag inside. What she did next shocked and excited him. She pulled her body skimming miniskirt up to her hips, revealing her plain white cotton panties. For some reason he had been expected her to wear itty bitty bikini panties in red or black with ruffles across her ass. That thought made him have to restrain a chuckle. His eyes studied her closely as she inserted one leg through the open window, firmly gripping the window sill to heft herself over and inside. Suddenly he felt sick and hot because the blood flow in his body was not sure if it should rush north to make him blush or south to make him hard. Since his body was totally confused, the blood simply pooled in his belly making him feel nauseated and ready to faint.

"Roy, what are you doing?" Maes whispered in his ear. Quickly stepping back, he avoided getting smacked in the face with Roy's head as the startled man leapt to his feet. He covered his mouth with his hand to hold back the laughter after his friend jumped and screamed like a frightened woman after seeing him.

"Stop that, you idiot," Roy snapped. He wanted to punch his thoroughly entertained friend right in the face. He doubted Maes could grin so widely with a fat lip.

"So now you're a stalker and a pervert in addition to being an asshole?" Maes questioned him, raising an eyebrow in consternation.

Roy glared at him fiercely without saying a word until the both of them grew uncomfortable.

"Let's go. She needs to be alone," Maes said to break the silence. He turned to retreat down the alley.

"How do you know?"

"Why else would she be here on a Saturday breaking into the dance school to practice?"

"Good point." He waited until they were on the sidewalk to say anything else. "How did you find me?"

"I saw you following her like a stalker and thought I'd tag along to see what was about to happen," Maes answered, rubbing his chin.

"You're nosey as hell, Hughes. One day you'll put that to good use. What did you think was going to happen?" he queried feeling a bit offended.

"I'm not sure, Roy. For some strange reason I can't fathom, she has a tendency to bring out the pervert in you. I don't know how to handle that." He gave his friend a long, suspicious look.

"What are you? Her protective big brother?" That's just what he needed since her father was the militant dictator of the country where they live. No pressure, no intimidation, and no threat of having the shit beat out of him with such fierce men protecting the woman who fascinated him but he did not know why. A stalker. Damn. A stalker and a pervert. What next? Womanizer? A lecherous grin split his face with the very thought. He could have his pick at his sister's place - and probably anywhere else for that matter.

"Mmmmm, yeah. Big brother," he contemplated, lighting a cigarette. He punched Roy in the arm to drag him back to reality from his obviously salacious daydream. "But actually, she's older than both of us," Maes informed him.

"Really?"

"Yes. She will be twenty-one soon. She has a birthday coming up in a few weeks. You better get her a damn good present too."

"Yes, of course...little brother."

"Shut up."

...

Reyna reluctantly stepped out of the shower. The hot water had felt so good on her sore muscles. She had danced until her legs had wobbled and gave way beneath her. It had taken an hour of stretching and rubbing her muscles to regain the strength in her legs so she could walk home. Her father had been nowhere to be seen when she returned so she went straight to her room to get ready for whatever present awaited her. After pulling a simple light blue sheath dress over her head, she meandered down to the kitchen seeking a snack and water. She was sitting at the counter cramming a spoonful of peanut butter into her mouth when her father walked in carrying a box that was as tall as him and about six inches thick.

"Oh, you are home," he muttered sounding a bit shocked.

"You told me to be home for dinner, right?" she queried, scooping up another spoonful of peanut butter.

"So is that your dinner?" He stared at her emotionlessly as she put the spoon into her mouth.

"No. It's an appetizer," she mumbled through the thick substance coating her mouth.

Her father smiled at her. It was a lopsided, cocky smile as if he were proud that she was such a smart ass.

Reyna choked on her peanut butter in amazement while trying not to stare at him. A smile! Was he on drugs or something? Had he suffered a major head trauma or a stroke? She sat perplexed, gazing at her father with a slightly tipped head which made her resemble a confused puppy.

"What's that?" She pointed at the box in his hands.

"Oh, your surprise," he announced, leaning the box against the wall. With a flourish, he took the lid off to reveal the contents.

Reyna hopped off of the bar stool to give the formal black dress a closer inspection. It was strapless and body skimming with a faint dusting of sparkling stones across the shiny, satiny skirt that reached the floor. The top was wrapped in a sheer black fabric with something beneath it that showed small bits of a deep orange color that brightened the stark blackness. She extended her hands, her fingers shaking, as she picked up the mask that lay on top of the dress. The mask was shaped and colored like a monarch butterfly. She turned to look at her father questioningly but was unable to ask with words.

"Your twenty-first birthday is coming up so I planned a masquerade ball." He waited for her to respond. "Well...do you like the idea?"

"Do I like the idea?" she asked herself, tracing the edges of the intricate and gorgeous mask with her trembling fingers. She raised her teary eyes to look at his face. Overcome with amazement and happiness, she lunged toward him to throw her arms around his neck. "Oh, Daddy, I love it!"

_Daddy. _That was the first time she had called him Daddy in sixteen years. King Bradley allowed the resentment and hatred in his heart to be temporarily be replaced with a warm and fuzzy emotion called love. He had indulged in letting that emotion overwhelm him with her mother. He had broken his vow not to do the same thing with her. He loved his daughter. One day it would nearly destroy him when she was taken away from him just like her mother had been.

Father had not meant to kill his wife, but he had all the same. He had meant to turn her into a homunculus but her body had rejected the philosopher's stone which in turn killed her. Bradley's fondest wish, and greatest hope since she was half homunculus anyway, was that his daughter would survive the transition. Her time would be coming soon. In addition to that, the winds of war had already begun to blow. Wrath was ready to taste the sweet nectar of the type of blood and destruction only he could bring forth. It had been too long since the last war - for him at least. The moment had come when Father would once again set his plans into motion to push ahead with his ideal that the homunculi, the ultimate humans that aren't really human at all, would rule the world. Soon they would declare war against Ishval to continue to conquer independent city-states to expand and strengthen Amestris not to mention furthering Father's deeper and more sinister plot to complete the massive Nationwide Transmutation circle that would kill the humans and turn them into the world's most powerful Philosopher's Stone ever.

Bradley looked down at his daughter as she held onto him tightly. He could feel his heart melting with tender emotion. Brushing his lips across her soft hair, he placed a kiss on the top of her head. Tomorrow he would force out the lingering emotions of love and joy, rebuilding the wall and once again hardening his heart. For now, he would bask in fatherly happiness while enjoying the adoration of his daughter. One day she would truly despise him profoundly and uncompromisingly. There would be no getting her back, no way of dragging her love back out of the prison inside her in which she would lock it away.

Reyna gasped when she felt her father's arms tighten around her with a bone crushing intensity. She could barely breathe, but she would not dare to ask him to let her go. A disconcerting feeling, one that made her skin feel as if it were about to crawl off of her body, blossomed in her core. Had the fear instilled by her nightmare grown into full-blown paranoia? Or was it her Father's strange and uncharacteristic behavior that made her suspicious? Whatever it was, she planned to visit Dr. Marcoh tomorrow. Maybe he could help her.

~...~

Reyna sat on the examining table in Laboratory 5 nervously twisting the white paper gown she was wearing around her fingers. Dr. Marcoh had poked and prodded her body while questioning her about everything from eating habits and sleeping habits to her monthly cycle and other embarrassing things. She had endured the medical investigation while struggling to maintain her dignity. Stopping the nightmares and the impending voices in her head was more important to her than suffering a bit of humiliation. Every muscle in her body instantly contracted when the door knob squeaked to announce the doctor's return before Dr. Marcoh walked back in. Her fight or flight mechanism was working overtime today since she was already on edge after having another nightmare last night. The flight part wanted to override her senses and move her body out of there when she saw the sharp needle connected to the obscenely huge syringe filled with a reddish fluid that seemed to bubble and glow.

"What's that?" she demanded, sliding off of the end of the table. She positioned her body so that she could run between the table and the doctor to reach the door before he could catch her.

"It will make the nightmares stop and keep the voices quiet," he told her, setting the sinister looking shot on the counter.

Reyna observed his every movement as he opened a drawer then drew out a bottle of pills. The small white round pill landed in the middle of his open palm. When he gave her a calming smile, she relaxed and moved back to the table. She cautiously climbed back up to take her seat as he brought the pill and a cup of water to her.

"Take this then lay back. It will make you drowsy," he explained after seeing the fear pass through her dark blue eyes. "You'll never feel the injection."

"Doctor," she murmured after swallowing the pill and finishing off the water to wet her parched throat. "What's wrong with me?"

"You're changing, dear," he said, assisting her with laying back on the table. He carefully positioned the pillow under head before covering her body with a blanket. She would be here for a few hours after the injection was administered. It would be necessary to monitor her vital signs in case something went wrong. Sighing loudly to shore up his resolve, he turned to retrieve the shot from the counter.

"Changing? What do you mean?" Apprehension exploded within the core of her being when she saw his back stiffen and his hand hover with hesitation over the syringe.

"Into something you've never been before," he stated vaguely, moving toward her with the shot behind his back.

Reyna could not help but notice that his pleasant expression had pinched into a sad and seemingly angry expression. She closed her eyes, gritting her teeth as the soft cotton ball swathed cold alcohol over her skin to disinfect the injection site in the crook of her right arm. Keeping her body completely still, refusing to make a sound, the needle slipped through her skin and into her vein with a slight stinging sensation. She felt sleepy, almost weary, as the pill he had given her slowly dissolved her consciousness.

...

"Why did you do that?!" the Führer bellowed angrily at the doctor. It had taken him hours to track down her whereabouts after he had received the call from Sergeant Francis who was concerned when she did not come to class.

"You told me yourself when she began to have the dreams, to hear the voices again, it was time to start the process," Dr. Marcoh reminded the Führer.

The Führer turned his back on the doctor so the man could not see the combination of sorrow and fury on his face. Yes, he had told the doctor that because Father had given him that order. He just didn't know it would come so soon. Raking his large hand through his midnight black hair, he sighed the sigh of resignation to his fate and hers. Possibly it would be better this way. She would be completely realized and transformed, truly ready for the war when it began.

"If it's any consolation, I diluted the solution of the stone with a mixture of her blood and yours. Your blood will offer a small dose of the stone which will cut down on the number of follow-up injections required. Also, her body will be less likely to reject the stone this way. Since she's already part homunculus, she's sure to survive. Your wife - "

"Don't talk about my wife!" the Führer yelled to stop the other man from finishing the sentence. The walls seemed to shake afterward with the reverberations of his booming voice. The sound had been loud enough to wake the dead, but it had not effected his sleeping daughter. He moved to the bed, placing his palm against her sweaty forehead. Her skin felt cool, a little too cool; but her chest rose and fell rhythmically with breath so he knew she was still alive. "Don't speak about her mother," he said in a soft, barely audible voice.

"I apologize, Führer Bradley. I should leave now. I'm needed below," the doctor said, quickly leaving the room.

Below. The place where the stones were formulated. The place where the used and discarded bodies that had been harvested for souls would be incinerated to remove all traces of their demise.

The Führer waited briefly, until he was sure the man would not be returning. He pushed his hands under his daughter, one under her shoulders and the other under her knees, while folding the blanket around her cold body. Lifting her from the table, he held her body close to his as if to impart his warmth to her, to will her body to live.

"Come on, baby. We're going home," he murmured, flipping the blanket over her face to protect her. Turning sideways, he used his shoulder to ram through the glass of the third floor window. The glass exploded around them, falling through the air like snow, sparkling like diamonds in the moonlight as gravity had its way with them and pulled them to the ground. He landed in the yard of Laboratory 5 with a grunt, his knees bending to absorb the shock of the fall. Shaking like a dog after a bath, he flung off the remaining pieces of glass that covered him and his daughter who was securely wrapped in the protective cocoon of the blanket. He could have simply walked through the front door with her, and no one would have challenged him. However, this would serve as a reminder of what he was capable of - that and a whole lot more destruction. He casually strode away from Laboratory 5 to take his daughter home.

~\..'../~

Roy bravely knocked on the front door of the Führer's mansion. He had not seen Reyna for almost a whole week. Full fledged worry did not set in until this morning when Hughes had told him he had not seen her either. The both asked around if anyone had seen her, going as far as to ask her dance instructor if she had been to class. No one had seen her. The encompassing worry had trumped his aversion to the Führer. He had to see her, to know for himself that she was all right. Using the excuse that he had brought her books and assignments from school, which he actually had, would keep him under his best friend's radar that there was something more going on and above the Führer's suspicions that he intended to be less than a gentleman with Reyna. He nearly dropped the heavy stack of books when the door opened with such force he was sure he was being sucked into a portal. To his delight, followed quickly by dismayed shock, he saw Reyna standing there.

"Oh, my god," he gasped without meaning to say it out loud.

"What, Roy? What do you want?" she asked, her voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

Roy unintentionally gaped at her. She looked worse than death standing in front of him in a thick fuzzy black robe that she held closed at the neck. Her face was so pale her lips were even colorless. Her eyes were half closed, and it appeared she could not fully open them. Her hair was frizzy, tangled, and hopelessly matted in places. He could see her hand shaking as she gripped the robe, and it seemed as if standing up were draining the last bit of life from her.

"What do you want?" she repeated, her voice stronger and more insistent.

"I-I-I br-brought y-your..." he hopelessly stuttered before giving up entirely. He pushed his way inside, afraid he was going to knock her down. After depositing the books on the floor, he turned to catch her just as she dropped limply. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sick. The flu or something," she said, allowing her head to rest against his chest. It made her headache worse and weakened her to hold her head up. She felt like she was dying. There was no protest when he held her in a bridal carry.

"Where's your room?" he inquired, carrying her up the stairs.

"That one," she answered, pointing to the third door from the staircase.

Roy pushed open the half closed door with his foot to carry her to the bed. Once she was safely in the bed and covered up to warm her body, he went to the bathroom for a washcloth to wipe the clammy sweat from her forehead and face. Obviously going down the stairs to answer the door had taken everything out of her. After walking into the bathroom, the first thing he saw was the broken mirror that resembled a huge reflective spiderweb.

"What the hell happened here?" he wondered aloud, staring at the million tiny reflections of himself in the numerous pieces of glass. Remembering that he should get back to her, he squeezed the water out of the wash cloth to leave it damp but not soaked. Sitting down on the bed next to her, he gently pressed it to her forehead that was hot as fire. She had been freezing cold a moment before.

"Roy," she gasped, opening her eyes. She blinked as if she were seeing him for the first time. "What are you doing here?"

"What?" What the hell was happening to her? Was she delusional? Hallucinating? What - His racing thoughts abruptly halted when she grabbed his hand, holding it possessively. He gazed into her eyes that were filled with pure terror.

"Please, don't leave me," she begged. Her widened eyes slowly closed, her body became totally lifeless.

Roy pushed down the panic that rose within him. Pulling open the robe, he lay his hand over her heart. Releasing the breath he did not know he had been holding, he kept his hand on her heart that fluttered against his palm while her chest inflated and deflated with each breath. After removing his hand, he gathered the sides of the robe back together before tucking the blanket around her to make sure she was totally covered. _Please, don't leave me._ The words bounced around in his brain as he studied her face and contemplated his situation. If he stayed and her father found him in her room, he would be dead for sure. Hearing her take a quivering breath as if she were struggling for air, he decided it was a risk he would be willing take for her. How could that man have left her alone in this state? Sitting on the floor beside the bed, he leaned his back against the mattress. If the Führer did come to her room, at least he might have an early warning that would afford him a chance to hide. It also helped that he was somewhat hidden to begin with. Attempting to get comfortable despite being on the floor, he reclined against the bed to listen to her breathing. He had only planned to stay a few hours to watch over her, but he fell asleep.

Many hours later, Reyna awoke with a start. She felt as if she had been ran over by a big truck then left to die. Stretching her arms and legs, her body was resistant to movement. Her skin had a sticky yet grainy film covering it which felt just plain gross. When she moved it seemed to crack the coating on her flesh as if she were emerging from a shell. Without wasting a second, she rushed to the bathroom for a shower. While relishing the steamy water on her skin, she took the time to coax the shampoo and soap into mounds and mounds of bubbles that covered her body. She had no idea Roy had been asleep by the side of her bed.

Roy awakened to the sound of running water seconds before there was a knock on her bedroom door.

"Reyna?" the Führer called in an incongruously lilting tone of voice.

Before Roy could be astonished by the gentle quality of the voice, adrenaline had pumped through his body warning him he better get the hell out of there in a hurry if he wanted to live. Jumping to his feet, he snatched back the sheer, light blue curtains covering the window. Without taking time to be quiet, he threw the latch and shoved it open to create an escape route. Glancing around in desperation, he hoped he would not have to jump out of the second story window. Luckily there just happened to be lattice-work attached to the side of the house. Unfortunately, climbing roses in a lovely shade of blushing pink covered that lattice that would have to suffice as a ladder to aid in his escape. When there was a second knock, he threw his leg over the windowsill to exit the premises after he came to the conclusion that a few painful thorn sticks and scratches were better than a broken leg or getting ran through with one of the Führer's long swords. The strong, overly sweet scent of the roses filled his nose making him feel a bit dizzy during his descent. However, the occasional stinging of a thorn piercing his skin kept him alert. Tired of getting pricked and cut, he dropped the last few feet to run off into the night before he was spotted - by anyone. He was sure Reyna did not know he had been there. If she had known, she surely would have had something to say to him. A devilish smile tilted his lips. If she did not recall his visit, he could have a lot of fun with her trying to remind her of it.

...

Roy called her Sunday morning to invite her out for breakfast. The day was beautiful and sunny without being too hot. He had chosen a table outside in the courtyard of the cafe. Huge planters filled with ferns and other greenery kept the area cool along with the wide umbrellas that shaded each table. He had ordered them both an iced coffee sweetened with caramel and covered with a thick cap of whipped cream. He hoped she arrived soon before the whipped cream melted into her drink.

About that time, she stepped out of the cafe onto the reddish-orange bricks of the patio. Reyna had chosen to wear a simple white sundress covered with small yellow sunflowers. The skirt of the dress drifted just above her knee and miniscule straps over her shoulders held the cloth on her body. Her father had given up a year ago on attempting to get her to dress decent and ladylike. She thought she looked just fine and quite ladylike. Going by the surprisingly big grin on Roy's face, he thought so too. He also appeared to be up to something. She wondered if he knew he got that mischievous little boy look when he had been in trouble or was about to get into it. Sitting down in the chair he held out for her, she appreciated his sometimes gentlemanly manners. If only his social etiquette could be consistent instead of hit or miss.

"So what's this all about?" she inquired with uncertainty tainting her voice. She stuck out her tongue to lick half of the dollop of whipped cream off of her drink so she could get a sip without covering her nose in the white fluffy stuff.

"Uh..." Roy could not think as he watched her tongue lap up the whipped cream before licking every last trace from her lips. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Then his train of thought returned to the tracks. "You don't really snore that badly when you're asleep."

"Yes, I do. Wait...what?" Reyna swallowed the sugary coffee with an audible sound. "How would you know that?"

"Do you always sleep in a black robe? I would have thought you preferred skimpy little nighties considering you have a penchant for showing off so much skin when you are in public during the day," he teased relentlessly, trying not to smile as her face turned from pink to red to an almost purple color. Oh, the many shades of mortification. Some of the colors looked good on her. The purplish color that resembled a bruise and hinted that she was holding her breath not so much. He decided it was time to have mercy and take the dangling fish of the hook. "I babysat you for a few hours yesterday while you were sick. You were alone and pretty out of it. I didn't want to leave you," he explained quickly to keep her calm. He did not want another meal ruined by someone freaking out. "I was worried."

"Oh." She took another sip of her drink before asking, "How did you keep from getting killed by my Father?"

"I climbed down the rose trellis after he knocked on the door. See." He pushed up his long sleeves to show her the dozens of scratches he had received.

"I'm sorry," she apologized without knowing why.

"Don't be," he returned, reaching over to touch her cheek. He smiled when her eyes met his. "I'm not. It's what friends are for right? We're there when one of us needs the other."

"Yeah," she agreed, feeling her face warm under his intent gaze while his thumb glided over her cheek. She had needed him yesterday. Misplaced pride and fear of her Father's reaction to find her alone with a man had prevented her from calling him.

Roy had been happy to be there for her. He kind of liked the whole damsel in distress being saved by the hero concept - particularly if he was the hero. He had no idea just how much he would need her someday.


	5. Chapter 5

Reyna slid her notebook inside of her book, slamming the cover of the book closed. They had began studying drawing transmutation circles and how to make a viable formulation to produce the desired result. Sergeant Francis had instructed his students to begin thinking about creating their own transmutation circle that they would use to create an energy that could be transformed into a weapon. They were soldiers _and_ alchemists so they would need to be armed with more than guns. A smile turned up her lips when she remembered the deep scowl that had imprinted itself on Roy's face after that statement. She ground her fingers into her temples, willing the headache caused an overload of information to go away. Something was brewing behind the scenes that the high-ranking officers and her Father were keeping secret from everyone. Her Father had been having numerous clandestine meetings with the Amestrian Military Generals and the Academy instructors. Sometimes he would disappear after dinner not to return until just before dawn. She had no idea where he was going nor did she care really. There was too much studying to be done so she could catch up on her missed assignments which in turn would enable her learn the glut of new information being tossed at them everyday. Groaning in despair, she felt weary and overwhelmed. After giving her sore eyes a good rub with the heels of her hands, she opened them to see that a cup of coffee with lots of cream and a piece of yummy looking chocolate pie had appeared beneath her nose. Glancing across the table, she was greeted with the gentle, friendly smile of Gracia.

"You looked like you needed a pick me up and a little bit of chocolate therapy. Since I'm taking my break, I thought I'd join you," Gracia said politely, sipping her coffee.

"Thank you," she replied, forcing herself to mind her manners when all she wanted to do was begin shoveling the pie into her mouth. Sixty seconds later she had devoured the pie and was ready for conversation while she casually drank her coffee.

"Are you feeling better?" the other woman asked, an expression of deep concern in her kind green eyes. When she received a confused puppy head tilt, she added, "Maes told me you were very, very ill."

"It took two weeks to get over it, but I'm finally feeling better. I just returned to school today, and I feel so lost although I've been doing the work at home. Maes and Roy helped me so much. They brought me my books and assignments. They even assisted me with getting through my homework when I really didn't understand something. Which was quite a lot," she admitted, staring into her coffee cup. She was intelligent, but she had never been brilliant, a natural genius like Roy. Every scrap of information filed away in her brain had been crammed in there after hours of days of studying: reading then rereading text books and writing then rewriting notes. However, the art of violence and wielding weaponry came so naturally to her it sometimes frightened her. Oh, well. Despite what her father thought, she would never be perfect at everything. She had come to terms with that fact and wished that he would.

"Maes is wonderful, isn't he?" Gracia inquired, sighing the sigh that belongs to those truly and hopelessly in love.

Reyna smiled, taking a minute to look at the woman who was staring into the distance, possibly at her impossibly happy future with Maes. She was happy for the both of them. The image of the dark-haired, incredibly handsome, and infuriating Roy Mustang filtered through her brain. "Ugh," she muttered, finishing off the rapidly cooling liquid in her cup.

"I appreciate you being so kind as to invite me to your birthday party."

"I couldn't expect Maes to come without you now could I?" Both women giggled.

"I'm going shopping for a dress on Saturday. Do you want to come with me?" Gracia asked.

"Of course!" Reyna quickly accepted. It was nice having found someone who could be a real sincere female friend to her. As much as she liked Maes and Roy, there were certain things she could not talk about with them. Female issues such as periods, love interests, clothes, and shoes among others were strictly never discussed with her male friends. Sometimes it was fun to mention those things to torture the hell out of them or cause great embarrassment.

"Why don't we go for a picnic in the park afterward?" she suggested excitedly, leaning across the table toward Reyna.

"That sounds wonderful," she agreed. "So about your dress, do you have anything in particular in mind? Color, style, length, anything at all? What about your mask? It is a masquerade ball."

"Oh! I know!" she exclaimed, snapping her fingers. "Maes and I could go as fairy tale characters! I could be his Princess and he could be my Prince Charming!"

If she weren't so excited over their budding friendship and making plans for Saturday, that statement might have sickened Reyna because it contained so much sentimental exquisiteness. After all, the characters of choice would be an appropriate portrayal of their relationship in costume. What could she and Roy be? Beauty and the Beast? She snorted to squelch the laugh that bubbled up from the thought. Okay, her mask and dress were like a monarch butterfly. He could be a flower. No. A bumblebee? He could poke her with his stinger. Hell no. The thought made her blush anyway. Most likely because it was so stupid. The Black Backed Oriole was a notorious predator of Monarch Butterflies. The predatory aspect seemed to work better with Roy's personality while being a complement to her costume. Roy could wear a black tuxedo with a bright yellow vest and a mask made of smooth black feathers that resembled wings to keep it from appearing effeminate. She could order that for him while they were shopping for Gracia's dress.

Roy probably didn't care what he wore and most likely didn't even want to come to the Masquerade Ball. He did not have a choice since he was friends with the guest of honor. Maes also reminded Roy of the likelihood that she would find another man to be her escort for the night because it just would not do for the Birthday Girl to be alone on such an important occasion. Roy had immediately reconsidered the idea of not going. Maes had a way of convincing Roy into doing the right thing whether it was for his friend's own good or someone else's.

Their rapid paced chatter about hairstyles was interrupted by the arrival of Maes and Roy. Gracia excused herself since her break had been over five minutes ago. After giving Maes a kiss on the cheek, she promised she would be back with more pie and coffee for them and a second round for Reyna. While she was gone, Reyna informed the men of the plans that had been made for them for Saturday.

"Do we have a choice?" Roy murmured in his usual grumpy manner.

"No, not really," Reyna answered, receiving a wink of approval from Maes.

"How is the studying coming along?" he questioned her, eyeing the pouting Roy with a grin of amusement.

"Good. I'm getting there slowly but surely," she answered, gratefully accepting another piece of pie from Gracia.

"Do you need any help? Roy would be happy to - " The brooding Mustang immediately cut off Maes' sentence.

"Roy would be happy to speak for himself you two. Now stop," he commanded them, taking an audible gulp of the scalding hot coffee. It burned his tongue and throat then continued to scorch a path around the interior of his stomach. He refused to react to the pain out of sheer pride fueled by arrogance. These two friends of his could be damned irritating. Glancing at Reyna, he said, "Yes, I will come by to help you if I need to."

"I'll let you know," she responded coldly not daring to ask him at this moment. Pride could be the cause of both of their downfalls and definitely a major obstacle to their ability to form a relationship beyond friendship.

"Have you decided what I'll be wearing the night of your ball, my Queen?" he inquired, cramming a large portion of the pie into his mouth.

"I have as a matter of fact. I'll reserve a tuxedo for you while Gracia and I are shopping on Saturday," she told him, purposely ignoring his glare of contempt.

Roy sighed with deference to her royal pain in the ass-ness. Surprisingly, her demanding and dominant attitude was one of the things he liked about her. With her he could relinquish control, leaving everything to her and still know he was going to be well taken care of. Instead of arguing with her, which he already knew would be a pointless endeavor, he continued eating his pie and drinking his coffee. Looking across the table at the two lovebirds, he visibly winced when they exchanged a lengthy, meaningful look before Gracia kissed him on the cheek. He watched the goo-goo eyed waitress quickly scoot away to the kitchen to pick up the next order for another customer.

"Mmmm, I need to go," Reyna announced, wolfing down the last few bites of her pie then washing it down with the rest of her coffee. "My father is expecting me for training."

"Of course he is. Asshole," Roy muttered into his cup. He nearly choked on his coffee when he received a kiss on the top of his head. He watched as Maes received a hug and peck on the cheek. Stung by jealousy, he tried not to pout over the unfairness of the good-byes. He had deserved that kiss on the cheek, and Maes should have gotten a pat on the head.

"See you guys tomorrow!" she yelled, rushing to the door.

Roy observed her skirt being caught by the wind and blown up around her hips soon as she ran out of the door. He relinquished an amused snort as her virginal white panties were exposed to the world. With a squeal of surprise, she pushed down her skirt before scurrying out of his view.

Reyna ran home, her steps sped up by the humiliation she had experienced thanks to the unexpected gust of wind. She ran through the house, throwing her books on her bed before stripping off her clothes to change into her usual black cargo pants and skin-tight black shirt. Before hurrying outside, she grabbed the expandable iron batons then ran to the area of the backyard set aside for training. To her amazement, there was someone else in the training site with her father. The man was tall and thin, his long black hair pulled back in a low ponytail that was wrapped in gold cord to match his Amestrian solder's uniform. His striking amber-colored eyes seemed to glow. They made her feel dirty as he gave her a lecherous once over from her head to her combat booted feet. All the better to stomp his ass with. Who was this creep? He gave her a lopsided grin filled with the conceit she believed only her father capable of exuding. She stepped back, extending the batons with a jerk of her wrists when he moved toward her.

"Jumpy little thing, isn't she?" he commented, sliding her father a sideways look as if they shared a secret. It made him look even more sneaky and not to be trusted.

"No. Just prepared for men like you," her father returned with a hint of parental pride in his voice.

"Hmph," the man snorted, his lips turning down into a frown. He began unbuttoning his coat to take it off.

"Who is this man?" Reyna asked her father.

"I'm Solf J. Kimblee," the stranger announced, the smile of salacious narcissism returning to his thin lips. His narrow eyes studied her without emotion seeming to assess her. "I'm the bomb, baby."

"Wow...humble aren't you?" she rejoined with evident sarcasm as he flexed his biceps and cracked his knuckles. The disconcertingly loud popping sound appeared to please him greatly.

"Seriously...I blow shit up," he said, opening his hands with palms extended toward her.

"What the - " Before she could finish her declaration of astonishment upon seeing the transmutation circles inscribed on his palms, the ground at her feet exploded sending grass and dirt flying into the air around her.

"Boom, baby," he murmured, observing with great gratification as dirt rained down on her body and grass stuck to her smooth black hair.

"Son of a bitch," she grumbled, catching a glimpse of her father out of the corner of her eye. He was standing at the edge of the training circle with his arms crossed across his broad chest while he observed the fight that was about to ensue. She was not sure if she had directed the derogatory term at Kimblee or father but it fit them both so maybe it was a two for one. She spun the baton in her right hand, raising the left above her head. "Let's go, Sparky."

Reyna charged him, bending at the knees as if she were going to jump for a frontal attack. Instead, she hit her knees and rolled in a somersault between his legs that were in a wide stance. After she flipped over onto her back, she used her heavily booted feet to kick him in the butt to launch him forward into a painful face first assault on the ground. Scrambling to her feet, she placed one foot on the small of his back to apply enough pressure that would keep him still. Shoving the rounded end of the baton into the hollow at the nape of his neck, she pushed with enough force to keep him pinned to the ground.

"Well, that was disappointing," her father muttered under his breath. He noticed the Crimson Lotus pressing his palms flat to the grass just before the ground began to shake with an audible rumble. It broke apart and crumbled beneath them as if there was an earthquake.

Reyna lost her balance, stumbling backwards. Unable to regain her footing, she hit the ground, her head smacking into the ground. Pain shot through her head, disorienting her completely as to where she was and who she was. When things finally came back into focus, she found herself staring up at Kimblee with his boot planted firmly on her chest between her breasts. Her breathing had become shallow gasps because he was compressing her lungs. His other foot had pinned her right hand to the ground. The thick rubber nubs on the boot had pinched the tendons in her wrist which had caused her to relinquish her baton. Her weapon lay on the ground beyond her reach. What now? Rolling her head to the other side, she saw that she had dropped that baton also but her fingertips were resting at the bottom of the handle.

"It really is a shame," Kimblee cooed, kneeling down beside her. He pressed his hand to her face, his long fingers trailing halfway over her skull. "I could have had many uses for you if you had proven yourself to be a worthy opponent. You're useless and disappointing."

Reyna gritted her teeth as a tingling sensation covered her skin where his palm touched her face. The tingling swiftly progressed into burning along with a buzzing inside her brain that grew in volume. He was going to kill her. Extending her fingers, she touched the bottom of the baton. Ignoring the torture he was putting her through, she forced her body to stretch, to elongate that final millimeter so she could reach for the weapon that would help her save her life. Her face felt as if it were about to burst into flames and the hum was so loud that she could not hear anything else. With a scream to release the agony and a last desperate lurch for the weapon, her fingers wrapped around the handle. Bringing the weapon up to bash him in the side of the head with it, she unsteadily clambered to her feet when he staggered to the side. She wavered a bit, her vision causing there to be two of him in her sights. Launching herself forward with a primal scream, she unleashed the power given to her by the adrenaline load that had built up from the pain and fear. The baton crashed into his ribs and the sound of cracking bone filled the air. Dizziness washed over in a tidal wave driving her down to one knee. Lashing out with her weapon, she took out his kneecap to bring him to one knee as he yelled like a wounded animal. With what remaining strength she had left, she swung the metal baton to catch him on him on the right side of his face with such a ferocious blow that it broke his jawbone before sending him sprawling onto the ground on his back. She panted, spitting out the blood that had filled her mouth. Her head throbbed as if her brain were about to explode, and her face felt like it was attached to a searing hot frying pan.

"You're not worthy of me, you bastard!" she yelled, hitting him again to break his cheekbone and knock him out. "That's what you get for trying to kill me."

"Very good, my dear," her father complimented, still standing on the sidelines exhibiting the emotions of a brick wall. "Go take a shower."

"Yes, sir," she returned, giving him a one fingered salute. She dared him to try to reprimand her. At this moment there was so much adrenaline and rage pumping through her veins she would give him the rest of the can of whoop ass she had opened on the Crimson Lotus. What could her father possibly be up to? What had been the purpose of bringing the bomb alchemist to spar with her? Perhaps her father was testing her to make sure her skills had not grown weak. Or he might be preparing her for something. Things were getting really weird. Even more so than usual for her.

~...~

"A Transmutation Circle can be drawn with chalk, pencil, ink, paint, blood, or pretty much anything that can suffice as a writing medium. The circle can also be drawn in the dirt if necessary. If your life depends on it, you will get creative to be able to draw that circle. They can also be sewn or embroidered on a piece of clothing worn by the alchemist. Some alchemists have opted for having a Transmutation Circle tattooed or etched into their skin for more permanent and easier access to summoning their energy," Sergeant Francis explained, pacing back and forth in front of the class holding the open textbook in his hand.

Reyna's head popped up having taken a particular interest in the lecture when he referred to the tattooing or etching Transmutation Circles onto the body. The pattern that had been either cut or branded into Kimblee's palms came to mind. She quickly sketched the circle on the paper, right in the middle of her class notes.

"A Transmutation Array differs from a Transmutation Circle in that it need not be contained within a circle at all. It can be, but it is not necessary. But we'll delve deeper into that subject later. Back to Transmutation Circles..." the teacher said, bringing himself back to the subject at hand.

"What is that?" Roy whispered to her, leaning over to get a better look at the picture.

"Just something I saw yesterday. I'm curious about it," she muttered, not feeling like explaining yesterday's training.

"How did the training go yesterday?"

_God...of all times for him to be chatty. Not only are we in the middle of a lecture, I don't want to try to make him understand my father's crazy training tactics. Hell...I don't even understand them, _Reyna thought to herself, taking a deep breath. She turned her head to look at Roy, flinching when she came nose to nose with him. Personal space anyone? "It was a real blast," she stated flatly, really not wanting to continue the conversation for so many reasons.

"Hmmmm," he murmured, sitting back in his seat so he could look her over carefully. He was not convinced things had gone well at all.

Her face appeared to be sunburned, but how did that happen? There was no way she could get a sunburn after five o' clock. The numerous faint bruises on her legs hinted that the training had been excessively violent. However, that did not surprise him at all. Her shirt was buttoned up to the top button covering her neck and her necktie was perfectly knotted at her throat. Her long sleeves were buttoned primly at her wrists so he could not see if her skin was marred there either. It was fair to surmise she was indeed hiding something since she always rolled her sleeves up after arriving at school and unbuttoned the top three buttons of her shirt while her neck tie hung loosely like a scarf. He thought of it as her official 'getting down to business' look. Her instructors referred to it as being out of uniform. No formal admonitions were filed with the dean of the school because none of the teachers would even think of scolding the Führer's daughter verbally and definitely not in a written complaint.

"Psst!" she hissed, breaking him out of his ponderings. She smiled when his eyes focused on her face showing he had come back from whatever daydream he had been having. "I'm going to dance class this afternoon to practice ballroom dancing. Want to be my partner?"

"No," he snorted, wrinkling his nose at the prospect.

"Oh...okay," she sighed in a long exhalation. "I suppose I'll just have to make do with the boys in class. There's this one who constantly steps on my feet. There's another who allows his hands to wander instead of keeping them in the proper position. And then there is - "

"I'll do it," Roy ground out through his teeth in agitation. How could she possibly assume that he would be a good dance partner? Of course he would be a great dance partner but that was not the point. His sister Chris had forced him to take dance lessons for six years as a child. She had told him it was for his own good because he needed grow up to be cultured and refined man. When he reached the age of twelve, he could outrun her so he refused to attend the lessons. Her attention to his wardrobe had been a different story. He enjoyed wearing three-piece suits with ties, silk scarves, and smart-looking coats, and anything that made him look like a million bucks. That was one of the few things that Chris had taught him that he had taken to heart and continued to do. His hair was another matter entirely. He left messy and slightly disheveled because he liked it that way. Only on special occasions would he bring it under control, taming every strand, and putting them into place with the bangs brushed back from his eyes. Glancing over at Reyna, he wondered what she could be thinking about as she traced with the tip of her finger alone the Transmutation Circle she had drawn. He wanted to ask her so many questions: he wanted to know what the circle meant, if it belonged to the person who hurt her, and the identity of that person. A fire welled up within him. A fire fueled by anger and the desire to protect her. That's when it came to him. He wanted to harness fire. He would become the Flame Alchemist.

...

"Look here, Roy!" Madame Girard yelled, pushing his chin up with the brass knob on the end of her walking cane.

Roy had not anticipated Madame Girard to be the ancient spitfire that she was. He had expected a grandmotherly woman who spoke softly with kindness and compliments to teach her dancing disciples. Her voice was strong, loud, and commanding. She was a little old lady who still dressed in her black ballet leotard with a floor length black skirt wrapped around her waist and a cream-colored shawl around her narrow and stooped shoulders. Her voice was heavily French accented. He guessed this would be who taught Reyna to speak the language so fluently. The teacher spoke mostly in French, shouting commands to the dancers in her native language in a crisp, clipped tone. She used the cane as a metronome by tapping it on the floor to the beats of the music which assisted the dancers with knowing when to move their feet. She also used it as a device to correct dancers whether it be positioning their chins, poking at their clumsy feet, or abusing the knuckles of a hand gone astray.

"Roy!" the ballroom nazi squawked, pushing up his chin roughly. "Breasts do not have eyes. If God had meant for you to stare at them while dancing, he would have given them eyes. Look at your partner's eyes."

_Thwack! _Madame Girard smacked his hand with her highly polished oak wood cane. His hand had slipped down to rest on Reyna's hip rather than her waist.

"Ow!" Roy howled, rubbing his sore knuckles. "Listen here, you old battle a-"

"Roy, please," Reyna begged softly, shaking her head. She grabbed his hand, pressing it to her waist while repositioning his other hand in the air before she held it.

They were practicing the tango. Madame Girard loved this dance and could be a real perfectionistic pain in the ass when coaching her students to do it. "It is the dance of passion, of romance...of love," she would gush at least half a dozen times during a practice session.

"Keep your eyes on mine. If necessary, I'll lead. Let's just get through this without one of us getting beat to death," Reyna whispered, waiting for Madame to countdown and the music to begin.

"I can do this," he growled, pulling her tightly against him. His arm fully encompassed her waist while her arm slid around his shoulder, her hand to rest on the back of his neck.

"Good! That's it!" Madame yelled at them since they had finally gotten into the correct position. Before they had been too shy, too standoffish, keeping a distance between them. "This isn't the Foxtrot people! It's the dance of two lovers. They love each other madly, and they are also mad to be in love. Love! Anger! Desire! Obsession! These are some of the emotions these lovers share between them."

Reyna gazed deeply into Roy's eyes. His eyes were so dark, so intense, so incredibly captivating. Her steps countered his, moving backwards as he moved forwards to push her across the dance floor as if to show his dominance. A gasp escaped her lips when his leg slid between hers while he slowly leaned her back. Her head turned away from him as his lips and nose grazed the full length of her neck. Her fingers dug into his shoulder and neck as if she were hanging onto him for dear life. She felt as if she were about to get swept away with the strong emotions elicited by the intensely romantic dance. Reminding herself it was all just part of the dance, she struggled to reign in her emotions that were getting out of control. When he brought her back up to a standing position, the tip of his nose brushed across hers. Her heart pounded when his lips were so close she could feel his breath warming her upper lip. Trying concentrate on the music, she realized it was her turn to push him back with the long gliding steps across the dance floor. Their bodies moved together in complete unison, giving the dance the passion and fervor it deserved. At the end, she relaxed for the final dip that was coming up. Holding his eyes with hers, she felt as she were slowly floating downward as he leaned her back while keeping a secure grip on her so she would not crash to the floor. She gulped as his face hovered over hers. Small droplets of sweat formed on his forehead as he panted opened mouthed. The prickle and sting of fleshly excitement ran across her nerve endings before her skin rose in goosebumps from his proximity. Her fingers curled into his shirt, leaving her holding handfuls of the cotton material as he carefully lifting her back to their starting position.

"Reyna," he gulped, pushing back the strand of hair that had come loose from her bun.

"What, Roy? What?" she urged him, wanting him to speak quickly before they were interrupted. Pushing herself up on her tiptoes, she brought her lips close to his. She held her breath when his arms encircled her to pull her tightly against him while his eyes hungrily studied her lips.

"Oh, that was fantastic!" Madame Girard exclaimed happily before reverting to rapidly speaking in French.

Dammit! Reyna and Roy immediately stepped apart, shaking their heads as if coming back to their senses. Reyna felt the heat of a blush of shame creeping up from her neck. Before it could reach her face, she rushed off to retrieve her bag. She had to get out of there.

Roy had been held back by the adoring females of the class. They were all talking at once, each one asking him to be their dance partner next time. He looked around them as best as he could attempting to see where Reyna had run off to. While profusely apologizing, he tried to edge his way through the giddy pack of girls who had surrounded him like vicious wolves. When he could not break through the circle, he grabbed the woman in front of him by the shoulders to pick her up and set her to the side, out of his way. He did it again when another woman appeared to prevent him from leaving.

"Excuse me, ladies. I must bid you a fond farewell. I have other matters to attend to," he proclaimed, bowing gracefully. A unified and sad howl of "Awwwww" followed him out of the door as he tried to catch up with Reyna who was practically running down the sidewalk. "Reyna! Reyna! Hey! Would you stop already?!"

Reyna slowed her steps to a fast walk but did not stop. She was angry with herself for allowing her emotions to run free. She shouldn't have been having those thoughts about Roy of all people. Love. Bah! Catching a glimpse of him as he jogged up next to her to easily fall into step beside her, she huffed and stared straight ahead to avoid making eye contact.

"What's wrong?" he inquired, his eyebrows pulling together.

"Nothing. I just have to get home. Take a shower, eat dinner, study...that kind of stuff. Busy, busy, you know. We have a test tomorrow. I actually have three tests tomorrow because of my other classes, and - " Her prattling was cut off when he grabbed her shoulder and turned her to look at him.

"Are you angry with me for some reason?"

"No." She refused to look at him. It was not a lie - she was angry with herself, not him. "I just have things to do, okay?"

"Oh, okay," he murmured with disappointment when she turned to continue on her way. "I'll take you out to dinner tomorrow night. You'll need it after your rough day tomorrow."

"Sounds good! Thanks! You're a great friend!"

For some reason, those words hurt. They had been like an arrow to his heart. Roy rubbed his hands over his face with aggravation. Could he be falling in love with her? No! He did not have time for this crap. A relationship beyond friendship would only complicate things. Neither one of them had the time nor presence of mind to get into a romantic relationship at the moment. A blinding flash of lightning sliced the darkening sky before thunder rumbled through the air. Time to go home. A storm was coming.


	6. Chapter 6

Reyna lay in bed staring at the ceiling. It was Saturday morning. She was awake, but she did not want to move. Getting out of bed would break the spell of contentment, happiness in its purest form. For the first time since before her mother died, she was happy. Although Tuesday had been hell on earth due to all of the tests she had taken, dinner that night with Roy had been wonderfully pleasant. She had met him at the same cafe where they had eaten breakfast, once again sitting outside on the lush garden patio. Conversation had been easy, comfortable, and free-flowing. They talked about their classes, they talked about her dancing, and they touched lightly on the subject of their future plans. Roy had confessed that one day he wanted to overthrow her father, to seize control of Amestris. He would turn it into a Democratic Republic, granting freedom to all of the inhabitants within Amestris and those in all of the countries it had conquered. If the other countries wanted to break from living under the umbrella country of Amestris, to declare themselves a free country of their own, they would be free to do so without any violent repercussions. He would allow them to be their own country while keeping constant open communication and peace negotiations to prevent future wars or upheavals.

Reyna had been flabbergasted, unable to speak after he had divulged his whole plan for the future of the country her father held in a stranglehold at the moment. Once the shock wore off, she was able to tell him that she was all for it, that she would do whatever necessary to help bring about his vision for Amestris. It was his turn to be astonished into silence. After the silence had been breached, they talked about plans for Saturday. The near future was enough for them to think about at this point in time. The present was about to come stampeding into her quaint remembrance of the dinner with Roy.

"REYNA! WHO IS THIS MAN?" her father roared angrily from downstairs.

"Oh, god," she gasped, throwing back the covers. She jumped out of the bed and sprinted as fast as she could downstairs. Half way down the stairs, she stopped as if her feet were glued to the floor. There stood Roy with a picnic basket and a bouquet of flowers. He was wearing black slacks and a white button up shirt but without a tie and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. That was about as casual as he got out of uniform. But this wasn't the plan!

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he greeted her, still standing outside of the door. Although her father was standing to the side which would allow him to walk in, he would not because of the glare of death he was receiving from the man's one eye.

Reyna grabbed the top of her flimsy, gossamer nightgown to hold it together at her chin. For whatever help that was going to provide considering all of the bright morning sunshine flowing into the house had made the gown see-through allowing Roy to have a nice look at what was underneath.

"Who is he?" her father repeated, glowering at her.

"His name is Roy Mustang. He's a classmate and a friend," she explained with clipped words in the manner of a well-trained soldier. Her heart galloped away as she watched her father slowly turn his head back to give the man at the door another once over. She sighed with irritation and rolled her eyes when her father puffed out his chest, widening his shoulders as if posturing like some animal to show his dominance. This was _his _house and _his_ daughter and how dare _this man _be here with intentions to violate both. After sixteen years, Führer King Bradley has decided to go parental, playing the part of the loving, protective father when it suited him. Sometimes he made it so easy for his daughter to hate him.

"What are your intentions for my daughter?" he gruffly demanded of Roy.

Roy allowed a sideways smirk to tilt his lips. '_I plan to seduce her into my bed and have my way with her, sir!_' he wanted to respond. However, he was quite fond of his life and his pretty face so he refrained. "We're going on a picnic, sir."

"Picnic, huh?" Bradley grunted, staring at the basket.

'_Well, duh! The basket should have been a hint!'_ Reyna's mind screamed as her temper rose. She crossed her arms over her chest finally growing tired enough of her father's crap to say something. "Father, today is one of the few free days I'm granted to do as I please. I keep to the schedule to set for me all week long. Now, may I just have this time you have appointed to me to rest and relax? Even the cadets are granted time off on the weekends, why not me?"

"Go get dressed," he ordered her calmly. Turning back to Roy, he muttered, "You can stay out here or you can come into the foyer to wait. Your choice."

"Thank you, sir," Roy replied, stepping into the white marble tiled foyer. Only his training as a soldier granted him the ability to be able to garner a forced respect for this man.

Reyna dressed as quickly as she could so Roy would not have to wait long with her father. Her father had obviously already made up his mind to hate Roy, therefore it was not a good idea to leave them alone for long. Too bad her father did not know the feeling of hatred was mutual. She ran a brush through her hair but left it down due to time constraints. Throwing a white eyelet lace sun dress over her head, she stepped into her white flats to head downstairs. When the two men came into view, she could see them facing each other carrying on a stilted conversation about the weather. She bravely stepped up to Roy, putting her arm through his.

"Are you ready?" she asked him, pulling him toward the door.

"Yes," he answered with a noisy sigh of relief punctuating the one word.

"Be home by dinner!" her father yelled after them as they walked down the porch stairs.

"Okay," she rejoined, waving behind her without looking back.

"There's been a change of plans," Roy informed her just a bit too late.

Reyna gasped, pressing her hand to her chest while managing to fake an expression of being completely aghast. "Ya don't say!" She rolled her eyes resisting the urge to call him Captain Obvious. "So let me guess, you and Maes decided to change the plans for us. Was this your way of getting out of wearing a tuxedo to the Masquerade Ball?"

"No. Unfortunately, I can't get out of that no matter how hard I try. Hughes is going to order it for me. He and Gracia will be joining us later," he told her, feeling her long, unbound hair brush across his arm. She had not even bothered to put it up much less braid it. He had no idea until now that her hair was nearly down to her waist. The lengthy waves that swirled around her body in the breeze were beautiful. She was beautiful. Clearing his throat and pushing his mind back to the subject he had been discussing, he said, "Until then, we're going to find a nice shady tree at the park to hide under."

"Oh, really," she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

"In broad daylight? Wouldn't that be illegal in addition to being unbecoming conduct of a soldier?" he questioned her with seriousness. "I also had no idea you were such a - "

"Oh, Roy," she sighed, disappointed that he had missed the playful nature of the comment. "You of all people should know that playing by the rules doesn't always work."

"Hmmmm."

"What's wrong with you? You seem so solemn today."

"Nothing. I guess we both just need time to recover from our week."

Roy would not tell her about what had happened to him and Maes last night. He and Hughes had gone to a bar with some of their fellow cadets to unwind. While there, two idiot upperclassmen began bullying an Ishvalan recruit. The Ishvalan was simply trying to drink his beer in peace when the other two took it upon themselves to start throwing insults and derogatory terms his way. The man stayed quiet, doing his best to ignore the morons. Then it went too far: one of the pests grabbed the man, pulled him off of his bar stool, and punched him in the face. Immediately, both tormentors commenced to punching the Ishavalan. They could no longer be ignored by anyone in the bar. Everyone in the bar sat quiet and still, watching the fight as the Ishvalan desperately tried to fend off his two attackers. When no else jumped in to assist the innocent victim, Roy and Maes decided it was up to them to help. They each chose a bully whose ass they wanted to whip and went for him. It did not take long to bring them under control and give them a sound beating before they were tossed out of the bar. Before the men left, one of them yelled something that Roy could not get out of his head.

"You can save one but you can't save them all! We're going to eradicate those damn Ishvalans! We'll wipe the face of the earth free of their kind!" the irate man screamed in unbound anger.

At first, Roy had attributed the statements to the ramblings of a humiliated loser. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if it was true. If the words were true, then why? How? The Ishvalans were a desert group of people who had been uprooted from their home and stuck in what amounted to be a sandy slum that was heavily patrolled by Amestrian soliders. They were contained in a small area like a bunch of prisoners to be watched. Any fighting they did took place amongst themselves due to the separation of creeds and religious sects among them. Shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of the questions that had no answers as they marched into his brain like an oncoming horde.

"Roy, are you okay?" Reyna asked, pressing her hand against his bicep.

"I guess I'm just a little tired. That's all," he mumbled, not feeling like talking about it. Glancing at their surroundings, he saw they had already reached the park. Finding the perfect shade tree would be a nice way to redirect his thoughts. Scanning the area quickly, he saw an old, grandfatherly tree not far down the path with a trunk as thick as he was tall with its branches spreading out over the lush green grass for several feet in every direction. "Hey, how about that one?"

"Looks good to me," she agreed, letting go of his arm. She skipped down the stone walking path to the designated tree.

Roy smiled. Sometimes she could be so innocent and childlike despite the harshness of her life. Although she lived in the lap of luxury, could have anything, anytime she wanted it, her father managed to make her life a misery just by being himself. He set the basket on the ground, reaching inside to retrieve the green blanket. Handing one end to her, they spread it on the ground. Both of them knelt down on it, smoothing out the wrinkles as they crawled toward the center. Neither one was paying much attention to where they were going so they knocked heads as they reached the middle at the same time. Both sat back on their feet, rubbing their sore skulls where they had made contact.

"I always thought you had a hard head, now I know for sure," Roy grumbled, the faint throbbing of a headache starting.

"Right back at you," she mumbled, lying down on the blanket. After making sure all necessary areas were covered by her dress, she rolled onto her back. Stretching her arms and legs like a lazy cat, she crossed her legs at her ankles and put her hands behind her head so she would not feel all of the lumps on the ground beneath her head. Closing her eyes, she made a groaning sound of happiness as she settled in for a nap.

"Comfy?" Roy asked.

Reyna thought his voice sounded disturbingly close. She opened one eye to see that he was lying on his side next to her with his head propped on his arm that was folded beneath it. His dark eyes bore into hers, and she was immediately trapped in their limitless depths. Although she had wanted to flinch in surprise, she was able to remain completely still. Closing her eyes again and feigning disinterest, she took a deep breath to slow down the beating of her heart.

"I'm quite comfortable. Thank you," she replied nonchalantly. Willing her body to relax, she could feel the warmth of the closeness of his body to hers. She found herself to be a _little _uncomfortable but not necessarily in a bad way. The scent of his body warmed by the sun was carried to her on the gentle breeze. The smell of his soap, like leather and pine, mixed with the odors of grass and flowers around them, filling her nostrils and tickling her senses. Her whole body felt extraordinarily alive. Every nerve tingled while her blood rushed through her body so swiftly she could almost hear it pulsing through her veins. While trying to regulate her breathing, she matched her breaths to his that had become light and rhythmic. Turning her head to look at him, she saw he was asleep. He truly was beautiful. His long black lashes lay against his ivory colored cheek. There was a small abrasion on one cheek just below the corner of his right eye. His lips were relaxed into a slight pout. A small cut marred the left side of his bottom lip. What the heck had he been doing? The slight injuries must have occurred during a sparring session. The wind ruffled his messy black hair gently, lifting the bangs from his face before they fluttered back into place. She held her breath as she reached out to touch the hair to smooth it away from his face. "Roy Mustang, I really like you. I really like you a lot."

...

Maes and Gracia arrived at the picnic area a few hours later around two in the afternoon. They stopped about six feet from the blanket to observe the sleeping couple. Roy was still laying on his side, but during her sleep Reyna had cuddled up next to him. The top of her head was pressed against the bottom of his chin, and his arm was lightly draped over her waist.

"Oh, Maes," Gracia whispered, patting his chest over his heart. "They're so precious."

"Yeah," he agreed, his eyes developing an evil twinkle. "I want to wake them up."

"Maes! Don't you dare scare them!" she admonished him quietly.

"I won't," he promised her. Seeing the bouquet of flowers lying next to Reyna, he crept over to choose a white daisy out of the bunch. Kneeling down behind Reyna, he reached over her to lightly tickle Roy's nose with the flower. He stifled a laugh when Roy waved his hand as if to shoo away a fly buzzing around his nose. He did it again, hearing his friend grunt and begin to come to the waking world. Trailing the flower across Reyna's chin, he whispered in her ear to wake up. She groaned and began to stretch, her eyes moving under her eyelids. The two sleepyheads opened their eyes at the same time, instantly realizing the position they were in. Both people cried out in surprise, jumping to a sitting position. Since Maes was so close to Reyna, he received a painful meeting of the back of her head into his nose.

"Maes! I told you not to scare them!" Gracia exclaimed, her hands on her hips like an aggravated mother.

"I didn't," he defended himself, rubbing his injured nose as Reyna massaged her aching head. "They scared each other!"

"Hughes!" Roy bellowed, jumping to his feet.

"Uh oh," Maes murmured, rising to his feet swiftly before taking off into a full run with Roy in pursuit.

Gracia dropped down beside Reyna, both of them giggling as they watched the men run around like children. The women began unpacking the picnic basket, ignoring the overgrown little boys as they roughhoused. Once the dishes of food were set out onto the blanket and the plates were brought out, it beckoned to the men like a sirens call. Maes and Roy returned to the picnic area, dropping down onto the blanket while breathing heavily from their frivolous antics. Reyna handed Roy one of the blue tin cups full of cold water while Gracia did the same to Maes.

"Are you done?" Gracia asked Maes in a quiet yet firm tone of voice.

"For now," he returned, receiving a raised eyebrow. According to her, he was done - permanently.

Reyna took a sip of her water to hide her smile. She liked the way Gracia managed to handle Maes and all of his silliness with a kind patience. Catching a glimpse of Roy lying beside her, she doubted she could ever be so long-suffering with him. Restraint, whether physical or verbal, was barely within the scope of her personality anyway. The only time it came easy to her was when she would automatically revert to mannerisms that had been instilled within her through many years of military training. However, good training did not keep the anger from boiling inside of her and building to be unleashed later during a sparring session.

"Reyna? What are you thinking about?" Roy questioned her, interrupting her thoughts. He reached over to affectionately smooth out the wrinkles on her forehead with his thumb.

"Oh, nothing really," she lied, pouring more water into her cup. She took a sip while gazing out over the lake. Her eyes followed the boats as they glided over the flat, glass-like surface of the still water. A family of swans swam beside one of the boats because the child sitting in his mother's lap was throwing out bread crumbs to them. "Hey, should we go for a boat ride later?"

"Sounds like a great idea," Maes agreed, leaning over to kiss Gracia on the cheek. "We can each have our own boat. Roy, get your rowing arms ready."

"Thanks, Hughes," his friend grumbled in return. Maes had the most detestable habit of volunteering him for things without asking first. Although if his overenthusiastic friend did not do so, he would be doomed to be a recluse who never did anything except plot out strategic political plans to further his own ideas for the future. Studying the woman sitting beside him as she daintily picked at her food, he considered there might be many possible outcomes for the future that he had not thought about yet. All of that would have to wait until a later date. There were more pressing matters to attend to at this time. His thoughts turned to attempting to decipher the meaning of that soldier's cryptic words. _We're going to eradicate those damn Ishvalans..._

Once the food was finished and everyone was delightfully full, the empty dishes were stowed away in the picnic basket. After another thirty minutes of conversation to allow the sensation of being full to pass, they headed down to the lakeside to rent their boats. Being such wonderful gentlemen, Roy and Maes got into the boats first before assisting their ladies into the small canoe like vessels. Gracia sat facing Maes as he rowed off in the direction of the open, uncrowded part of the lake. Reyna had turned her back to Roy so she could see where they were going. At first they were stuck in the middle of a large number of boats filled with noisy, happy families. As they moved further along, the boats began to dwindle in size and number of occupants. Soon they were in an area by themselves on the far side of the lake on the other side of the park. He was pushing them in the direction of the weeping willow trees. Their branches extended out over the water to hang like waterfalls of green that rippled with each breeze. Reyna extended her arms forward, separating the branches to open a path for them as he rowed through the thin, whip like branches. At last they reached a clearing that was shaded by a tree whose large, heavy branches filled with leaves stretched out over the lake. Roy pushed the boat the edge of the shore, grounding the tip so it would stay put. Sitting down in the bottom of the boat, he extended his long legs around her and reclined with his hands folded comfortably behind his head.

"Another nap?" Reyna inquired.

"Sure. Why not? Don't you ever take time to relax?" he asked, opening one eye to gaze at her.

"No. Not really," she answered, hugging her arms around her body. She had never really been allowed to relax. Her father kept her busy whether it be with physical pursuits or educational endeavors. Even on her days off, she would spend her free time at the dance academy or practicing with her swords.

"Well, then, let me teach you," he suggested, reaching out to her.

"What? What are you doing?" she demanded apprehensively when he seized her by her upper arms to pull her over on top of him. "Roy, this isn't very comfortable."

"Then get comfortable," he told her, grunting when she elbowed him in the belly.

Reyna shifted around, ignoring the grunts of pain from her companion. This had been his idea after all. She finally found a comfortable position lying on her back with her body wedged between his legs and the back of her head lying on his belly.

"Are you done?" he growled through gritted teeth, regretting his suggestion.

"Quite," she responded curtly, inhaling a relaxing breath.

"Do you know what plans your father has for you?" he inquired, feeling her body stiffen. Laying his hand on her shoulder, he squeezed it to give her reassurance. He had not meant it to be offensive; he was just aware of what a control freak her father could be.

"I'm not sure really. Sometimes it seems like he does not expect me to have a future at all," she mumbled, closing her eyes as if to shut out the image of her mother that haunted her memory.

"What do you mean?" The fingers of both of his hands dug into her shoulders.

"Nothing." She reached up to wrap her fingers around his wrists, pressing into the pressure points to make his fingers release because they were grinding into her collar bones.

"Sorry," he apologized, carefully massaging the muscles on her shoulders that he had bruised.

"I expect him to keep me as his bodyguard, his personal guard dog. You can't be a man like him without gathering hundreds of enemies," she stated, rubbing her temples because a headache had begun to grow. "Why else would he be so intent on making me the perfect soldier?" _The perfect killer,_ her mind supplied without her consent.

"My Queen," Roy murmured, laying one hand against her neck to feel her steady pulse beneath his fingertips. "I've got a crazy idea."

"Should we run away from all of this? Start a new life together?" The words popped out of her mouth before she had fully engaged her brain. She feigned a chuckle to offset the awkwardness of her outburst. "Just kidding..."

"Not that crazy," he laughed, noticing her pulse had quickened under his fingers. "But almost as crazy."

"Oh? Now what idea could possibly be ruminating in that brain of yours, Roy Mustang." She held her breath as he stroked her neck. Despite the warmth of the day, her skin raised into goose-flesh. Every nerve ending burned like fire from the excitement of such a simple touch. A fabulous spark of pure erotic delight ran from the base of her skull to zip along spine before crashing into the small of her back. The heat oozed into her belly making her feel hot and a bit light headed. She both loved and hated the effect he had on her body.

"If we don't find anyone to marry by the time we're in our thirties, do you want to get married?" he asked, his belly quivering. He could not believe he had asked her such a stupid thing.

"Are you joking? Don't mess with me because it's just not nice," she muttered, sitting up to look at him.

"I'm not," he assured her, running his fingers through the hair that framed her face. "Why shouldn't we? Then we won't have to grow old alone." He smiled at her, holding her chin between his thumb and forefinger. It was his devious, playful smile. "It will also be a fantastic way to piss off your father."

"I'm not sure if I should be offended at being Plan B or not," she sighed, flattening her hands against his belly before she propped her chin on them. "Don't you think this a bit adolescent and ridiculous? Do you even intend on keeping such a silly promise?"

Roy pressed his palm against her cheek, his fingers curling into her silky hair. He could see the distrust and disappointment in her dark blue eyes. It was obvious she had become accustomed to a life of flat-out lies and broken promises. Perhaps he should have just kept his mouth shut. Forcing a smile to his lips, he conceded, "It is stupid, but that's okay. I'm only nineteen after all so I'll admit I'm being a bit dumb. But Reyna..." He paused, searching for the correct words for his next statement. "Is the thought of someone waiting on you, to spend the rest of their life with you, a bad thing?"

Reyna sighed lowering her eyes from his because hurt had crept into their blackness. She thought for a minute before meeting his steady gaze again. "No. It's not a bad thing. But it needs to be because they want to...not because of a silly promise made when they were young and stupid or because they are too afraid of being lonely. No one likes being Plan B."

"Well, what if that part was accidentally omitted out of Plan A and that's why it became Plan B? Not as a backup, but as an addition." He sat up, pulling her to a sitting position with him although she was still leaning heavily on his chest. He held her arms tightly, searching her eyes for an answer. For once, there was no emotion, not a hint as to what she was feeling, swimming in her navy blue irises.

"Roy, you're backpedaling." She was getting irritated with him. He had backed himself into a corner and now there was no way out without hurting her feelings - she knew that and he knew that.

"Reyna, damn you, you can be the most annoying, stubborn, irrational - " he seethed, grinding the words out between his clenched teeth.

"I'm entitled. I'm a woman!" she shot back angrily. "Besides, I'm not the one who started this stupid line of conversation."

Roy realized there were no words left to say. Since words had betrayed him, he allowed his actions to speak. He pulled her forward, pressing his lips against hers with a bruising force.

Reyna released a scream that was muffled by his mouth that covered hers. She beat on his chest, trying to push him away. Instead of letting her go, his strong fingers dug more firmly into her upper arms and his lips crushed themselves more tightly against hers bringing pain with the violent kiss. Coming to the realization that he was not going to free her, that he was going to make her accept the kiss and the promise it would seal, she relaxed into him and his kiss. Her palms pressed flat against his chest, her fingers splayed out across his shirt. She sighed when the kiss became sweet and apologetic, his mouth gliding lightly over her abused lips. Her fingers flexed, seizing handfuls of his shirt as his hand buried itself in her hair to cradle the back of her head. He was still not relinquishing her lips nor did she want him to break the kiss. She moaned into his mouth when his lips separated to push hers apart. Her breath was stolen when his tongue tentatively entered her mouth to touch the tip of hers, seeking permission to go further. She stroked the tip of his tongue with hers, granting his request while her body burned with arousal from the kiss that had bewitched her. In this moment, she would wait for him for many lifetimes just to be kissed like this again. She had been kissed before but never like this. The previous kisses had been an inexperienced, fumbling meeting of lips that did not last long due to embarrassment or discomfort. Roy was consuming her, bringing her into submission with a passionate kiss. She did not like being under his spell, but she could not break it either. Nor did she want to undo the enchantment.

She was killing him. Roy's body responded accordingly with each stifled moan he pulled from the woman. His whole body was throbbing with need so encompassing he was on the verge of agony. He had never wanted a woman so fiercely - not just her body but in her entirety. Before this kiss, he had been able to deny that fact, to convince himself that she would never be more than a friend or an ally. He needed her. This tidbit of knowledge frightened the hell out of him because he had never needed anyone, especially a woman. But she was no ordinary woman. Suddenly, he could no longer breathe.

Reyna was grateful when he ripped his mouth from hers. She laid her head on his chest, panting and dizzy, weakened by the kiss. Her body trembled against his because desire had inundated her senses so completely. She had never expected that - none of it. His heart pounded against her cheek as if it were about to break through his ribs and leap out of his chest. At least she had not been the only one profoundly affected by the kiss.

"There's something you should know about me," he puffed, still a bit winded from the kiss. "I don't make idle promises. And I don't make promises I don't intend to keep."

"You truly are an old soul Roy Mustang," she returned, raising her head. Leaning forward, she lightly kissed his lips. "All right. I'll hold you to your promise."

Roy smiled, stroking her long hair as he gazed at the shards of blue sky appearing through the leaves of the tree as they moved in the wind. He held her to him, relishing the way her body fit so neatly to his. The thought of loving her still scared the hell out of him, but it was too late to turn back now. He had said too much, admitted too much. Words that are spoken cannot be unspoken.

Reyna was deep in thought herself. She was still trying to figure out what had just happened. Had Roy told her he loved her and proposed to her in a very veiled, roundabout manner? Maybe, but it was difficult to know for sure. Damn man. And men had the nerve to accuse women of being confusing and frustrating. Women were actually easy to figure out. Men just made it complicated. Compliment a woman, buy her flowers and chocolate, and don't look at another woman EVER and that would be all it takes to keep her happy. She scoffed at herself for oversimplifying the matter but that was pretty much the basics - or at least a good start. So what had that kiss started? She was not sure, and she doubted he knew either.


End file.
